A Really Awesome Mess
by rippingbutterflywings
Summary: Clary Fray is an ordinary girl with a crush on the most popular boy in school, Sebastian Verlac. When he begins harrassing her, she begins to see that he's dangerous, and she formulates a plan along with her brother and his friend, Jace Wayland: Clary and Jace will pretend to date until there is no danger. But is it really pretending if you share kisses in the dark? OOC, AU/ AH.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, guys! So, obviously, I finally uploaded my new story. Yay! I decided to upload it this week because I got Really Important Test Scores back this week, and they were better than I expected, which sort of inspired me a little. :P_

_I've been working on this for a while, and I'm kind of nervous to post a new story (it's been a whole year since I've done that!), so I hope you like it. Special thanks to Katwood5 for proof reading/beta'ing. :) I'll try to update this once a week/once every two weeks, depending on how hectic things get. (But, hopefully, it'll be every Friday. Fingers crossed.)_

_In case you read my old story (Oath) and are now here: hi! Hello! So nice to have you back. This is a very different (happier!) story, so I hope you enjoy the change._

_To all of the new readers: bonjour! I hope you enjoy the story, too, and thank you (times a million) for reading._

* * *

She didn't think about it much.

When Jon brought his new friend home, Clary didn't give it a thought. Her brother was friendly, and so he was bound to make more than one new friend a week. It was just the way he was, and there was no way around it. Being his opposite, Clary learned to stay in the shadows, in her room, as far away from the actual socializing as possible.

The two boys burst into the house, being carelessly loud, as boys tend to be after soccer practice at four in the afternoon. She heard their laughter all the way up to her room, and, being in no mood for it, she got up and started toward the door.

By the time she was downstairs, she took a good look at the two boys. They both had messed-up hair, though her brother's white-blond hair was not the same kind of hair the other boy had, because the boy was golden. His hair was the color of her mother's wedding ring, and his eyes a duller gold, like the world could not stand him being so glorious and had to tone it down.

They both had the same kind of hair, though: shaggy, and full of sweat after a long practice. They were both soaked in their sweat, which Clary found herself wrinkling her nose at.

"Hey, sister," Jon said, snapping her out of it. "What's up?"

"Why are you always so damn _loud_?" she asked him, making her way into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "Some of us are actually trying to pass school."

"Ew," her brother replied, though he was only teasing. "Where's Mom?"

"The gallery with Luke," she replied absently, eyeing her brother's friend. "Who's this?" She nodded toward him.

"Oh. Clary," he said, pretending to be all formal when he clearly was not, "this is Jace. Jace, Clary. He's cool. New to town," he added, as if that would explain his lack of presence in the house for the past couple of years.

She gave him a half-hearted wave, mumbled a quick hello, and turned to Jon. "Simon's coming over in , like, five." She rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look, Jon, he's been around since before you could do basic math."

"I still can't do basic math." Jon grinned. "Aw, you know I like Simon."

"More like you like to tease him mercilessly. It wouldn't kill you to be nice," she muttered, trying to find something to eat that wasn't an apple. "Can we order pizza?"

"I _am _nice," he argued. "And I have a twenty, so yeah."

The doorbell rang just then, and Clary glared at her brother. "One rude word , and I'll hit you where the sun doesn't shine."

"I'm terrified," he said dryly.

Simon was wearing a surprisingly plain t-shirt and jeans, along with his beat-up pair of converse. "Tell me you guys have food."

"Hi to you too, Si." Clary stepped out of his way and closed the door. "We're about to order pizza."

"I love you."

"Whoa, there, Simon," Jon piped up. "I'm the one with the money."

"I love you more, Jon."

"You guys are gross," Clary said, but she was smiling.

Simon's eyes landed on Jace, and Clary could have sworn they narrowed. "Uh, who's this?"

"Simon, this is Jace," she sighed. "He's new, and one of Jon's many friends."

Simon gave Jace a nod, who nodded back. Clary snorted, but said nothing.

"Yo," Jon said. "Do you guys want pepperoni or cheese?"

"Pepperoni," Clary replied.

"Cheese," Simon said.

"I'll have whatever," Jace added, and it struck Clary how not very interesting he seemed to be, but how much attention he drew from the room when he spoke.

"Half and half it is," Jon said, phone in hand.

While her brother ordered, Clary turned to Jace. It killed her to do so, but she had to be polite. And also social. She hated both, but her mother said she had to show some sort of social skills if she wanted to get anywhere in life, and she thought there was no one better to practice her nonexistent small talk skills with than one of her brother's friends.

"So, Jace," she said, kind of drawing out his name, "where are you from?"

"Florida."

"Really." It wasn't a question, but a statement. "Florida's nice."

"Florida's crap." He snorted, and she decided that she liked him, because he was right: Florida was crap . "You and Jon," he noted, "don't look very much alike."

"He gets his looks from our dad," Clary replied, nodding toward him. "I get mine from my mom. The only thing I get from my dad is his last name, and that's only when I can't help it."

He gave her a funny look. "You're very particular ."

"Their dad was a dick," Simon said, rolling his eyes. "There's nothing particular about that."

"Simon," she warned.

"Sorry."

"Pizza's been ordered," said Jon. "Now, ladies—"

"Thanks," Simon replied, all sarcasm.

"—if you'll excuse us," he paused, wearing a wicked grin, "we're gonna go hang out. Do the manly stuff."

"You sound incredibly manly right now, Jon." Clary patted his shoulder. "You go do that."

"Why don't you call Izzy? She can help Simon become more of a man," Jon said to her, eyes shining with amusement.

"Because _Isabelle_," Simon said with a sigh, "had a little too much fun last night and is now in bed with a massive hangover."

"Your girlfriend likes to party, I'll give her that."

Simon turns an impossible shade of red. "She's not my girlfriend."

Clary had to snort. "Okaaaay, Simon."

He held up his hands in surrender. "I'll call her."

Jace was looking at them in amusement, or so Clary saw from the corner of her eye. She wondered why he didn't say anything. She was shy, sure, but she always had something to say when someone had enough personality in them to get it out of her. He, however, did not seem shy, but he also did not seem to share much. It both puzzled and fascinated her.

"She's coming over," Simon announced. "If she can get passed her mom, that is."

"She can get past anyone," Jon said, waving a hand dismissively. "Izzy's, like, part cat or something. She's the most impressive girl I've ever met."

"You only say that because she broke a guy's nose with her stilettos once."

"That's pretty impressive," Jace noted, and Jon nodded appreciatively.

Clary rolled her eyes. "For the last time, it's not that hard if you put some force into it."

"Then why haven't _you _broke a guy's nose wearing high heels?"

"Because, Jonathan, I'm too busy not breaking my back to wear high heels."

"You two," Simon noted, "are particularly chatty today."  
Clary shrugged. "They were being loud."

"Oh, please. You were probably stalking Sebastian Verlac and mooning over him." Jon rolled his eyes, and Clary's glare cut right through it .

"I do _not _moon over—"

"Yeah, you do," Simon said. "But we love you anyway."

"Who's Sebastian Verlac?" Jace spoke, and everyone suddenly remembered he was there.

"Sebastian Verlac," Jon said dramatically, "is an asshole."

"The biggest out of all the assholes," Simon added.

Clary rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "He's not _that _bad—"

"Clary, you only think that because I've kept all the nasty shit he's done from you," Jon said gently. "But, I mean, I've met assholes before. This guy makes them look like the nicest guys in the universe."

"It's not like I'm gonna date him," Clary mumbled. "I mean, he's just hot. Can't I appreciate that?"

"As long as it's just that," her brother said firmly, and she rolled her eyes at him yet again. She was going to get a headache.

The doorbell rang for the second time that evening. Without noticing, they had all moved to the living room and were sitting on the couch . Clary got up , glaring at the boys as she made her way to the door. Thankfully, her best friend, Isabelle Lightwood, stood in front of her.

"Clary," Isabelle said. "I have to tell you _so much_—"

"Later," she replied quickly. "Just come into the living room for a sec."

"This feels like a prank." Isabelle didn't move.

"Izzy, it's not a prank."  
"Then hear me out."

"I _will_. Later."

"Fine. But if this is a prank—"

"It's not a prank."

"—I will kill you."

"Okay," Clary said. "Now come on."

What Clary had refused to think came rushing back to her, and it was a simple truth that she could not deny: Jace was gorgeous. She did not know his last name, or what his favorite song was, or his birthday, or his age, but she knew that he was the kind of gorgeous that girls would die for, the kind that girls pretended not to stare at but noticed even after it was gone.

Isabelle _clearly _noticed. Her posture changed; she stood up straighter , smiled a little more. "Hey," she said. "What's up?"

"Izzy, Jace." Clary jerked her head toward the golden boy. "Jace, my best friend, Izzy."

"Clary," her best friend said, "I didn't know you'd gotten yourself a boyfriend."

"Yeah, okay." She snorted, rolling her eyes. "He's one of Jon's soccer friends, and he's new to town."

"Ah, but there's more to me than that," Jace replied with a devilish smile. It was the kind of smile that made her want to smile back.

"Nice to meet you." Isabelle Lightwood, ever so charming, stuck her hand out for him to shake. "I'm Isabelle. Call me Izzy."

"Jace."

"So I hear." She took a seat beside Simon, her almost-boyfriend. "Hey."

Simon was clearly annoyed. "Hi."  
"Oh, boy," Clary muttered.

"So," Jon said, "we're gonna go outside. We'll let you know when the pizza's here."

Isabelle brightened up. "Pizza?"

"Should've ordered a bigger one," Clary's brother muttered while nodding.

"Cool."

The two boys left, which meant that only Simon, Clary, and Isabelle were inside. But there were clearly unresolved issues between Simon and Izzy, so Clary stood up abruptly , blurting something out about having to talk to her brother before leaving the room.

Outside, the air was chilly. It was October in the city, which meant that jackets were now in order. She shivered slightly before looking around, spotting her brother and his new friend in the process. She marched up to them.

Her relationship with Jon had never been a very complicated one. It had been very easy, really, to say that she liked her brother. They did not spend much time together, but the time they _did _share was spent having fun, which meant that she didn't mind socializing with him. Everyone recognized her as Jon's little sister, because Jon was popular, and she was not. Not on her own, anyway.

"Hey," she said to the boys. "They, uh, needed to work some things out."

"That might have something to do with her flirting with Jace," Jon said, his eyebrows raised. "You need to talk to her or something."

"Izzy's just like that." Shivering, she glanced back at the house. "She doesn't mean to be."

"I know." Jon gave her a smile. "So, what's going on with you, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Not much. There's never much going on with me."

It was the truth. Her life, in a word, was ordinary. Painfully so. She followed her every day routine, which meant that every day was as boring as the last, and she had no say in it.

"Oh, but Clary, you are so very interesting." He smirked, and she knew he was teasing. "How's the art?"

"Art-y," she replied. "Listen, I don't know, Jon. How's the soccer?" She was mocking him, and he knew it.

"Just dandy. Met a new friend, in case you couldn't tell."

"Well," Clary assessed Jace, "he's awfully quiet, so I didn't really notice."

"Quiet!" Jon laughed, doubling over. "That's new."

"Most people would describe me as 'strikingly handsome' or 'very, very doable.' I could settle for quiet, I guess." Jace shrugged. "It's just not really very me. I feel like a mislabeled product in a grocery store."

"You are so full of shit," Jon said between laughter. "Oh, not you, Clary."

"I noticed you were talking about your suddenly very alive friend." Clary was amused as she glanced at the two of them: her slightly delirious brother and the amusing golden-haired boy standing beside him. "How's Kaelie?"

She knew she struck a nerve when his face turned the kind of serious that wasn't really serious, but more annoyed. Jon rolled his eyes at the mention of the annoying cheerleader that basically stalked him every day and night. "She's Kaelie," he said, grimacing. "She tried to, uh, _seduce _me earlier today, and I threw up a little in my mouth."

Clary smirked. "She came up to me today."

"Really?"

She nodded. "She was all like, 'Oh, could you _please _tell your brother that he left his shirt in my room? Oh, and could you also tell him that I've been eagerly awaiting his call?' She said it all professional ly and cool ly , but I could tell she was secretly dying."

"Oh god," Jon said, groaning. "She is a nightmare."  
"Of course she's a nightmare," Clary replied. "But she's only a nightmare because you slept with her."

"Which I don't get," Jace said. "I mean, I've met her, and she's like a walking, talking sign against sex with her."

Clary snorted. "Amen."

"She was hot, and she was there, and I was bored." Jon shrugged. "You know I don't believe in that whole 'having sex with someone you care about' crap, not always. And it was right after my breakup with Aline, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, blame your broken heart for sleeping with a teenage psycho."

"Are your friends done?" Jon gave Clary a playful glare.

"I don't know, and…I kind of don't want to find out." She could walk in to find two very different things. Both scenarios did not suit well with her.

"Well, what do you wanna do?" Her brother was getting annoyed, the way he did when she hung around for too long when his friends were over—which never happened, but she dimly recalled the way he acted that way when they were kids.

She shrugged. "You tell me."

"Well," Jon said, "let's talk to Jace."

The two siblings turned to face the guy with the golden locks, who was staring at them with an amused expression. "What about me?"

"Well," her brother replied, "tell us about yourself."

"Oh, boy."

By the time ten minutes had passed, they knew more about Jace than they had expected to. They knew that his last name was Wayland, and his dad was from England, but he died when he was a kid , and they knew that he liked to play the piano and the guitar, and that he used to play football, and that he liked to travel, and that he was a very skilled liar. They knew that he was social, too, but that his game was off today. They found out that his favorite color was the blue of the ocean, which Clary pointed out was not really blue, and then Jace replied that it was obviously blue, and this caused them to fight for a good three minutes before Jon rolled his eyes and said that they were both stupid.

They found out that he had no middle name, and that his hair _was _naturally blond. They discovered that he was single, not looking for a girlfriend, that Kaelie scared him, and that he was not really interested in anyone from their school at the moment. He was an only child, and his mom was single . She was a lawyer. They found out that his favorite ice cream flavor was chocolate, that he didn't like red velvet cakes or cupcakes, and that he loved to watch movies.

And, in those ten to fifteen minutes, Clary decided that Jace Wayland _was_ fascinating.

When the pizza arrived, Jon stood up, saying he would go get it and pay for it, and they could eat outside. But it was getting dark, so Clary shook her head and told him that they should go inside, and so they did.

Isabelle and Simon were just talking on the couch when the three of them came in. They were holding hands, which Clary took as a good sign, and nearly jumped with excitement as Jon came in with the pizza.

The house phone started ringing before Clary could take a bite out of her pizza . She let out a sigh and walked toward it. "Hello?"

"Clary?" It was her mother. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You weren't answering your phone."

"It's in my room, and I'm downstairs. Lots of people here today."

"Really? Who?"

"Izzy, Simon, Jon, and a friend of his called Jace."

"Well," her mom said, "we'll be home soon, okay? I was just checking up on you."

"I'm not five."

"I know," Jocelyn said. "I just worry."

"I'm painfully aware of that."

"Love you."

"You too," Clary replied, and hung up. She faced her brother, who was looking at her with an eyebrow raised in question. "Mom and Luke will be home soon."

"Seriously, she needs to get a hobby."

"She _has _a hobby."

"She needs to get a new one."

"Amen."

They started eating . Clary thought, in that moment, that she had never tasted anything as delicious as that pizza in her entire sixteen years of life. True, she had tasted many that came close, including her mom's homemade pizza, but she was starving, and this pizza filled her right up.

There was silence while they ate. Everyone had been starving, so no one minded—or seemed to notice—the silence, which was just as well. They ate and sighed and nodded at the deliciousness.

And then Jocelyn and Luke came in, their eyes narrowed at the smell of pizza. Well, Jocelyn's . Luke brightened up, took a slice without saying hello, and bit in . "This is so good."

"_Luke_," Jocelyn warned, and he held a hand up in surrender, the other one still holding his pizza.

"We were hungry," Clary explained, "and there was no food."

"What money did you use to buy this?"

"Jon's."  
Jocelyn looked at her son. "I'm not paying it back to you."

"I figured."

"Is it any good?"

"Really good."

With a sigh, Jocelyn took a slice of pizza and bit in. She nodded in agreement, and they all sat together, eating the pizza that had been ordered earlier in the afternoon. It felt weird, especially when Jace was basically a stranger to them . After getting to know so many quick facts about him, Clary felt like she knew him: she felt like she knew how much he loved everything he told her he did. She felt his love shine through his words, and she loved it all too much.

She was greedy for more.

"I'll be right back," she said to everyone. No one seemed to care that she was gone. She made her way upstairs, took a deep breath, and grabbed her phone from the table.

She didn't know what it was that made her pick it up, but she was glad she did.

Because Sebastian Verlac called her.

It was five minutes before, but it was enough to make her heart race, to make her think that if she'd just gotten there a couple of minutes earlier, she could have been having a whole conversation with the hottest guy in school right now. With a sigh, she decided on calling him back.

And he picked up.

"Clary?" he answered, sounding groggy. "Hey."

"You called?" She tried to sound bored.

"Yeah." He sounded _so damn sexy _over the phone, something she tried hard to ignore. "I was just wondering if you wanted to go out sometime."

She tried to keep from squealing. "Really?" Her voice came out squeaky and wrong.

"Yeah. Would you be up for it?"

"Um, I don't know. When?"

"Saturday? Six o'clock?" He sounded hopeful.

"I'll think about it and text you, okay?" She wanted to die. He was asking! her! out!

"Sure," he said, and she could picture him grinning and flashing his dimples, and she wanted to die. "See you tomorrow, Clary."

"See you," she said, all but sighing, and hung up the phone.

She walked back downstairs, half-dreaming. Everyone noticed that she was over the moon about something, so they all asked.

"I—nothing." She was sly about it, though, which gave away that what she actually meant was _everything_.

"Spill it," Izzy said. "God knows I'm your best friend, Clary Fray, and there's something you're hiding."

Her mom was gone now, and so was Luke. She broke into a grin. "Sebastian Verlac asked me out."

Isabelle's eyes were as wide as the ocean. "No. Way."

"Yep!" She nodded so many times she thought her head would snap in half. "I can't believe this is happening. I mean, wow. I never thought I'd get asked out by Sebastian Verlac."

"I thought you weren't interested in dating him," Jon pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"That's before I thought he would actually date me," she replied, giddy. "Besides, I haven't said yes."

"Good." It came from Isabelle, much to Clary's surprise. "I know you're thinking that he's the hottest thing ever. While he _is _attractive, he's a bad kisser and his breath isn't the best-smelling thing and he does not know how to keep his hands off you and his grip is too firm and I just really don't think you would like him, Clary."

She let out a sigh. "You couldn't let me be excited for _once_," she grumbled, but she trusted her best friend. Isabelle Lightwood, if anything, was experienced.

"I'm glad you're not going out with him," Jon said between bites of pizza. "Like I said, he's a pig. There are better guys out there."

"Because guys are just lining up to go out with me," Clary said, half-joking, though it did sting. The truth is, she had never gone out on a date. Not even one. She hadn't even had her first kiss, and she was sixteen, and she felt like a failure of a teenager, especially when her best friend was one of the most experienced girls at their school.

"Clary—"

"Jon," she said sternly. "Don't. I'm not making a huge deal out of it, but it's the truth. Guys don't find me attractive." She shrugged. "I can deal with it. It just sucks that the one guy I find really, really attractive is the biggest asshole in the planet."

"I know," Isabelle said, answering for her brother, because boys could be idiots, and she knew that more than anyone else. "But there'll be another sexy one. I swear."

Clary just smiled, because she didn't know what to say. She appreciated her best friend's efforts to make her feel better, but she also knew that they'd done no good. When she fell into one of these moods—the ones in which she felt like she was never going to be good enough for anybody—only time could pull her out. She sighed, excused herself from the table, and went back upstairs. She sent Sebastian a text, saying she wouldn't be able to go to their date.

She wouldn't have sent him that text if she didn't at least partially agree with her brother and friends. She _knew_, deep in her heart, that Sebastian Verlac would break her heart if she let him. And she knew that saying yes to a date with him would qualify as "letting him," so she had to say no. But still. It hurt all the same.  
There was a knock on her door, and Simon opened it without being let in formally. "Hey," he said, sitting beside her on the bed. "You doing okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" She played with a loose thread that hung from her shirt. "I'm fine."

"It's okay if you're not fine," he said, giving her a small smile. "I know it's been tough for you to pine over someone like Sebastian—a dick who would never be good enough for you anyway. But Izzy was right when she said there would be another guy."

"I'm not doubting her, and I'm not upset about that." But she was. She just wanted everyone to let her be upset, because it was not the worst thing she could be. "I promise."

"Okay." He stood up. "We're gonna watch a movie, so join us if you wanna."

Clary nodded. "Just give me a second."

She watched as her best friend made his way out of her room, gently shutting the door behind him. Her head was pounding, which she found weird, because she ate, and she didn't get headaches that often. Maybe it was just her mood, she thought with a sigh, and stood up, grabbing her phone before making her way down the stairs and into the living room.

The next empty space was next to Jace, so she plopped down beside him, giving him a sort-of smile before facing her brother. "What are we watching?"

" _Scream _." He smiled. "Your favorite."

She grimaced. "I wouldn't call it my _favorite_."

"You love this movie."

"I love a lot of things, Jon, but that doesn't mean they're good for me."

Clary saw Jace smile at that from the corner of her eye, but decided not to mention it.

"We're watching it, though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." She waved her hand dismissively and toyed around with her phone, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, she was very aware of the fact that Jace was not unattractive, and he was sitting right beside her. She didn't want to start thinking of him that way, but she was, just like that. She had a feeling that the idea had been there all along, ever since he said the first thing about himself when they began socializing earlier. She just had that feeling, when he said that he hated Florida, that he was going to be the kind of different that took her breath away.

And now he was going to do just that, but not because of anything other than his attractiveness. She could not deny that he was handsome: his hair was better than she could ever dream hers would be, and his eyes made a hole in her heart, and his smile could heal the most broken of hearts.

"Who's making popcorn?" Simon asked. "'Cause there needs to be popcorn."

Isabelle nodded. "I second that."

Clary let out a sigh and pushed herself up. "I'll go."

"I'll help," Jace offered, and she wasn't about to refuse that, though she couldn't begin to understand why he would volunteer to help her in the first place other than to seem charitable—and, well, Jace Wayland did not seem like the kind of boy who cared about being charitable.

It was a good thing he came, though, because the popcorn was in a cabinet that Clary could not reach. She always hated her height, but she hated it more when it embarrassed her in front of people. Blushing, she asked Jace, "Could you get that for me?" which he did, and with a smile, too.

They made the popcorn quietly. At some point, Clary had to start looking around for bowls, and he knew exactly what she was looking for, because he started to help. Her mom had rearranged the whole kitchen the past week because she'd gotten bored, and Clary didn't know where things were, not until she stumbled upon them.

"Found the bowls," Jace announced, setting three aside. "These good?"

"Perfect." She couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. The first bag was done, and she started on the second one. "Thanks."  
"No problem." He emptied the contents of the first bag into a bowl and shook it, giving her a smile as he did so. "So, Clary Fray, why are you so upset about Sebastian Verlac?"

"I'm not," she replied, slightly annoyed at his inferring. He would not have been so far off from the truth, but she felt annoyed at the fact that he thought himself entitled enough to assume things by what they looked like, instead of by what they were. "I'm not," she repeated.

"Okay," he said to her. "But you seem upset."

"I am, but not over that." She took the third bag out of the plastic package and waited for the microwave's alarm to go off. "I'm upset over a lot of things, like lack of sleep and too much homework and really bitchy girls and the fact that inspiration doesn't strike me easily, but I'm not upset over the fact that Sebastian Verlac is an asshole."

"I didn't think you'd be upset over him being an asshole," he explained, "but over him asking you out and you having to say no."

"Aren't they related?" she asked absently, taking out the second popcorn bag and thrusting the third one in without a second thought.

"Yeah, but they're not the same." He watched her dump the popcorn into a green bowl. "I thought you'd be upset over the fact that you couldn't have your date, not over the fact that it was with him."

She hated how right he was.

"Even if that's why I'm upset," she said slowly, "it'd be a reason out of a million. I really don't care."

"Then why don't I believe you?"

"Because you don't believe in anything."

He didn't have anything to say to that, and she nodded, satisfied. The third bag of popcorn was done, and she was, again, dumping its contents into a new bowl when she realized that Jace Wayland was infuriating.

They carried the bowls to everyone and distributed them evenly: there was a bowl for both Isabelle and Simon, another for Jon, and another one for the two of them to share. They hated the last part of the distribution, but there was nothing they could do. Clary wasn't that hungry, anyway.

It was uncomfortable to be sitting next to Jace after having that talk with him, to be scared of feeling his skin on hers while reaching for popcorn. To feel the presence of someone else where the absence of everything usually sat.

The movie, which usually cheered Clary back up because of its familiarity, was strange to her now. It was like nothing could bring her back to the way she would usually be. Her mood was a permanent shade of gray, and she hated everything because of it.

It was ten by the time the movie ended. Isabelle and Simon announced that they were staying over, as they usually did, and Jon awkwardly asked Jace if he wanted to spend the night so they could watch another movie without worrying about curfew. Jace went into the kitchen to call his mom while the group debated what the next movie would be.

Then, Clary said, "I really don't feel like watching another one."

"Why?" asked Izzy. "You love movies."

She did, but she shrugged. "I just don't feel like it. I have a headache, and I'm tired."

Her best friend shrugged. "Okay."

"We'll sleep on the couch," added Simon with a smile. "So we don't wake you up."

Clary nodded, grateful, and went up the stairs with a mumbled goodnight to them. She should have felt bad for ditching them, but she felt bad for many things already. She felt bad for thinking that Sebastian Verlac's proposal would mean anything other than the fact that he was a douchebag, or that Jace Wayland could be interesting without being an asshole, or that his friends would understand what she was going through. She felt like an idiot for it all, she decided while she locked her door and turned off the light.

* * *

_Let me know what you think! xo _


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi, guys! As promised, I'm back with another chapter after a week. School's been very, very crappy lately, so I didn't think it'd be up today. :( Anyway, thank you very much to the lovely Katwood5 for beta'ing this (and for hearing me rant about everything daily, too :P). You're awesome! Thank you to all of you guys for reading this. You, too, are pretty darn awesome. I hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

Her clock read 2:37 when she woke up. With a sigh, she propped herself up, thinking only of how much her sleeping schedule was suffering.

Her stomach growled, and she got up, using her phone as a flashlight as she made her way down the stairs. Isabelle and Simon were sleeping on the couch; it was one of the ones you could turn into beds, and so there it was, with Simon's arm draped over Izzy lazily. Clary smiled before proceeding to go into the kitchen.

And she almost jumped out of her skin.

Jace was standing in the kitchen, water bottle in hand, searching for something. He heard her gasp and turned around. "Hey," he said lazily.

"Hi." Her heart was racing, beating hard against her ribcage. "What are you _doing _here?"

"Your brother said I could stay," he replied, "so I did."

"I meant in the kitchen."

"I got thirsty."

"Couldn't sleep?"

Jace nodded. "Couldn't sleep. Did you just wake up?"

She nodded back, a yawn escaping her lips before she knew what hit her. "Sorry." The shadows hid her blush. "Anyway, I just wanted a drink, so." She took a glass and filled it up with the fridge's cold water, and that was that.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Clary." He sounded truthful. "I didn't mean to assume things."

"You did," she shot back, but her heart wasn't in it. "It's okay."

He nodded, and then held up his water bottle. "I should go."

"Yeah," she said. "Me too."

"You're not moving."  
"Neither are you."

The corners of his mouth lifted upward, ever so slightly. "Well, then."

She found herself smiling. "Goodnight, Jace."

"Night, Clary."

She made her way upstairs; the house was eerily quiet, and she missed Jace's company already. She felt heavy and light at the same time, and she opened the door and left it unlocked, half-hoping that Jace would want to come inside.

But that was ridiculous, because Jace did not know her, and she didn't know him. There was no reason for him to want to come in.

There was a knock on her door.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Clary?" It was Jace. She could not believe it. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." She stood up quickly. "Come in."

He smiled at her. "You left your phone on the counter."

"Crap." She grabbed it from his outstretched hand, their fingers touching slightly. It could have been her imagination, but her heart sped up the moment their hands met, and it was like lightning and fireworks and everything you hear about in the movies. She blushed despite herself, thankful for the dark. "Thanks."

"No problem," Jace said, taking this time to admire her room. "Nice room. Lots of books."

She shrugged. "I like to read."

"So I see." He looked amused at her declaration of the obvious. "I should get back to the room. Don't want your brother to worry or anything." He said the last part teasingly.  
"Are you making fun of my unattractiveness?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Because that is _so _not—"

"Clary," he said, stopping her with the firmness of his voice. "You're not unattractive. In fact, you're beautiful." He stepped closer. "And you really don't know me if you think that I would make fun of someone based on their looks. Unless their personality compliments them, that is."

She was still struggling to understand anything past _beautiful,_ but she just nodded, stupefied. "Okay."

Jace smiled at her, his hands shoved in the pockets of his pajama pants. "Good."

Her heart was racing, because here was a boy, a gorgeous one, telling her she was beautiful, and she was freezing up on the outside. Her ability to say anything at all had disappeared, replaced now with panic. She didn't want to say the wrong thing, but she didn't know what the right thing to say was, either.

Thankfully, he cleared his throat. "I should go."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and bit her lip. "Okay," she managed to choke out.

"Goodnight again."

"Goodnight," she replied, her voice swallowed whole by the darkness, as she watched him walk out of her bedroom.

* * *

Clary didn't know when she fell asleep, but she did know that the harshness of the light streaming through her window woke her up.

She cursed; she'd forgotten to shut the blinds the previous night. Groaning, she got up, her head pounding. She must've fallen asleep pretty late—three or four in the morning, maybe?—and it was definitely killing her. Her phone was on her bedside table, exactly where she'd left it after Jace had walked in.

And told her she was beautiful.

She ignored the butterflies beating hard against her stomach as she made her way down the stairs. It was nine in the morning, which meant her brother was probably up, because he was always up early to practice soccer, no matter what. Sure enough, she found Jace and Jon standing in the kitchen. Her brother had a soccer ball tucked safely beneath his armpit, and both boys held a water bottle in their hands.

"Clary," Jon said cheerfully. "Mornin'."

"Hey," she mumbled.

"Nice hair," Jace teased.

"Oh, bite me," she replied, reaching for a water bottle. "I'm starving."

Jon smirked. "Mom isn't up yet."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, dumbass."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed," Jace chirped.

"Nah, man," Clary's brother replied. "She's _really _not a morning person."

"Ah," Jace replied, smiling in amusement.

"When the hell are those two gonna wake up?" Clary asked, glancing at the couch. "Simon's the only one out of us that knows how to cook."

"I know how to cook," Jace said. "Extremely well, in fact."

"Well, make me something."

"Only if you say please."

She gave him the finger.

"Wow," he replied. "You're really hostile in the mornings. Or is it just me?"

"Mixture of both." But she was smiling. "Can you _please_ make me something?"

"What would you like?" he asked, exaggerating politeness.

"Scrambled eggs. Oh, and toast."

"Pancakes for me," Jon said, shrugging. "Since we're already making food."

Clary and Jon got Jace everything he needed: the pancake mix, eggs, milk, bread…everything. Then, when they were sure he had everything he needed, they sat down on the stools at the kitchen island and watched as he prepared their food.

"Where did you learn to cook?" Clary asked, curiosity getting the best of her. "I mean, I just assumed that all of Jon's friends were as useless as he is."

"Hey!" Jon said, pretending to be offended. He knew better than anyone, though, that she was speaking the truth. He didn't know how to do _anything_—except play soccer.

Jace gave her a shrug. "My mom was away a lot, so I learned. YouTube videos, TV shows, books…" He let his voice trail off as he mixed the pancake batter.

Clary didn't know what to say to that, so she hopped off the stool and said something about going to wake up her two friends.

Which didn't go so well.

"Whoever this is," said Isabelle in her most threatening voice, "I am going to kill you in your sleep."

"There's food," Clary said, "and it's your only chance at being fed."

"I'm up," Simon said absently, waving her off. "We'll be there in a second."

The breakfast smelled super good, but Clary couldn't focus on the food. She could only focus on not looking at Jace, because, if she did, she would start thinking of when he called her beautiful, and then she would stare at him for too long all at once, and her brother would know that she was thinking about him. So, with a sigh, she focused on her phone, going through her Facebook and Twitter absently, not really reading what was there, but pretending to.  
"Hey," Simon said, joining them. "When's the food gonna be ready?"

"Morning to you too, Simon," Jon said. "It'll be ready in a sec."

"Clary? Could I talk to you?"

She snapped her head up to meet her best friend's brown eyes. "Sure." She looked at the other two boys. "We'll be right back."

They stepped outside. The leaves were already falling, turning the colors of the sunset. She shivered, hugging herself. Her sweater couldn't protect her from the cold.

"What's up, Si?" She looked at her best friend with curiosity.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're okay with Isabelle and I being together," he said, smiling. "It became an official thing yesterday, but I didn't wanna tell you because of the whole Verlac thing."

She smiled, ignoring the mention of Sebastian. "Seriously?"

He nodded, unable to keep in his excitement. "I can't believe she said yes."

"Of course she did, you dumbass!" She hugged him tightly. "I'm so happy for you." She had to stand on her tiptoes and got too tired after only a couple of seconds.

His ears turned pink. "Thanks."

"I'm okay with it, by the way." She started walking toward the house. "Really."

"Good." He grinned, following her inside.

Breakfast was ready, and it looked amazing. Pancakes stacked on top of each other, scrambled eggs, and toast. If Clary had any doubt that she was impressed with Jace, it went away just then.

"This looks really good," she said, her mood lifted by the news her best friend had given her. "_Really _good. Seriously."

"Of course it does," he replied. "I made it."

"And here I thought you were modest."

"Modesty is fake," Jace replied. "I'm very, very real."

"You're gross," Clary told him, taking some eggs and two pieces of toast. The kitchen was a mess, but it was the best Saturday breakfast she could have asked for.

After they were done eating, Simon and Isabelle volunteered to clean up. It was obvious to everyone else that they just wanted some time together; they were very clearly a couple now. Clary stepped outside with her brother and Jace, remembering to take a jacket this time.

"So we know how yesterday went," Jace said, jerking his chin toward the house to let her know that he was talking about her friends. "It's a good thing, too, because it made breakfast a lot easier."

She nodded. "They're hell when they're fighting."

"I honestly thought it'd be you and Simon getting together, sis," Jon said with a shrug. "It's just always been there, ever since you were kids. Mom and I were totally rooting for you two."

She wrinkled her nose. "Ew."

"Oh, come on, Simon's not _that _bad."

"He's my best friend." She shook her head, smiling. "No. Besides, he's not my type."

"You have a type?"

"Yeah. Guys who _aren't _my best friends." She gave her brother a sweet smile. "I know him too well to want a relationship with him. He's like my brother. It'd be kind of like incest."

Her brother visibly shuddered. "Gross."

"I know," she replied.

"So you really don't have a set type, then?"

"Why are _you _so interested?"

"It's always good to know these things," Jon said to her. "Especially if I know someone who fits the criteria."

"You don't," she said quickly. "All of your friends are too dumb." She flashed Jace an apologetic look. "Sorry."

"I took that to heart," he replied to her, pretending to be offended. "But, please, do tell us your type."

Clary felt uncomfortable, so she shrugged. "I don't know. There's more to a person than just one thing, but I _would _like a guy who's honest. And kind. And loyal. And at least a little bit funny. And _not _dumb." She smiled sheepishly. "But I don't really expect the guy I end up with to be this comedic Einstein who would never, ever acknowledge anyone else but me."

"Realistic," Jace said, nodding. "Good."

"Sadly, I know no one fitting that criteria," Jon told his sister. "No one who's single, that is. And I wouldn't hook you up with any of the guys I know anyway. They all suck."

"Thanks, Jon."

"Sorry, Jace."

Clary rolled her eyes. "I don't wanna date, anyway. Sure, last night…it would've been nice," she said quietly, "to have had that chance. But it doesn't mean I'm gonna date just anyone."

"Noted," Jon said. "Do you think those two are done making out?"

She groaned. "I'm reconsidering the whole being okay with them dating thing."

"They'll stop making out eventually," her brother replied. "I hope."

"Speaking of making out," Jace said, "Kaelie called Jon last night."

"No!" Clary widened her eyes, a smile forming on her lips. "What'd she say?"

"Oh, well, it kind of went like this: 'Oh, baby, I want you. I need you. I'll make it _totally _worth your time.'" Jace spoke in a voice a couple of octaves higher, which made Clary laugh harder. "Jon was freaked out on the outside, but I'm pretty sure he had a boner."

"You're making me throw up all over again," Jon said, looking disgusted. "I seriously don't know how anyone stands her."

"You should know," Jace said. "You had sex with her."

"You two," he replied, looking at Clary and Jace, "are going to be the end of me."

Clary grinned. "Gladly."

* * *

Inside the house, her best friends were, thankfully, not making out. Clary joined them in the living room, feeling the weight of sleeplessness catch up to her. She wanted to pass out, but it was already eleven in the morning, and it would not be worth it.

"We're going home," Simon announced. "Well, separately, but you know."

"I'll be leaving a little after he leaves," Isabelle said, "because I need to talk to you."

"Okay," Clary replied. She looked at Jace. "Do you need a ride?"

He shook his head. "Jon's taking me to practice later today and then giving me a ride home."

"Okay, then." She looked back at Simon. "You leaving now?"

"Yeah." He stood up. "Thanks for earlier."  
"Breakfast, or our conversation?"

"Both."

"You're welcome."

"See you on Monday, Fray," he said.

"Bye, Lewis." She smiled as he made a face and walked out the door, Isabelle following him. They said their goodbyes, and she joined Clary in the living room quickly after.

The two girls went up to Clary's room. Like Jace had mentioned, it was full of books: she only had one proper bookcase, so there were books stacked up all over. Her bed was close to the window, and her dresser was on the wall opposite it. Her room was an organized mess, but she loved it all the same.

"What's up, Iz?" She closed the door and sat on her bed, cross-legged.

"You're keeping something from me," Isabelle said, eyes narrowed. "I can tell."

"I am _not_."

"Are too."

"It's nothing huge," she mumbled, paranoid that Jace might overhear—or, worse, that _Jon _might overhear. She couldn't bear it. "Seriously, it's kind of stupid."

"I dig stupid. I'm dating Simon," she added, grinning. "Tell me."

Clary told Isabelle about the night before. About her going downstairs and finding Jace in the kitchen and leaving her phone and having him come up the stairs to give it to her. About the way he told her she was beautiful in the dark.

"Oh, man," Isabelle whispered. "You like him."

"I don't know him."

"It doesn't matter. You like him anyway."

"You can't like someone you don't know," Clary lied.

"We both know that's not true."

She sighed. "Isabelle—"

"Save it. You love him."

"I don't _know_ him." She let out a frustrated breath. "If you're just here to tease me, I'm not in the mood. I'm tired and cranky and just not in the mood."

"Sorry." Isabelle didn't sound apologetic, but Clary didn't mention that. "Simon talked to you." It wasn't a question.

"I'm happy for you two," Clary told her.

"Good. We'll try not to make this too gross for you."

"Appreciated."

"I'm leaving," Isabelle said. "I'll come back when you're not in such a mood. And, Clary?"

"Yeah?"

"You totally like him."

She barely managed to dodge the pillow Clary threw at her on the way out.

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_Let me know what you think! I'll see you in a week. xo _


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello! This update is coming to you a day early because I don't know when I'll be home tomorrow and didn't want to not update in time, so…there you have it. Life's been pretty rough lately (medical issues are getting worse and worse every single time I go to the doc and school is driving me absolutely crazy), but I hope to never fail you with updates. If I do, I hope that you understand that I sometimes have to take a break, even if I don't see writing as a form of stress, but quite the opposite. Sometimes there are priorities, though. :P Anyway, enough about that!_

_Thank you to Katwood5 for beta'ing this for me! You're lovely and wonderful and your taste in music is amazing, and thank you so much for letting me rant to you and always being so awesome! :) Thank you to all of you who have reviewed this story! I love hearing what you think about it and talking to you about everything. :) As always, thank you for reading. Y'all are fantastic, and I hope you like this chapter! _

* * *

Jace's mom called at three in the afternoon to say that she had to travel to California, telling Jace she was "so sorry," but asking if he could find a place to stay because she knew Jace would get bored and didn't want people coming into her house while she was gone.

Clary heard their conversation as she nibbled on an apple slice and Jon flipped through the TV channels. Jocelyn had gone out to the art gallery with Luke and wouldn't be back until nine, so they had the house all to themselves.

"Yeah. Fine." Jace pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Leave the keys under the mat and I'll be there in thirty."

"We're missing practice?" Jon asked, clearly disapproving.

"Nah. Just making a quick detour."

"I'll get ready." He stood up and made his way upstairs and into his room, leaving Clary and Jace alone.

"Does your mom do that a lot?" Clary nodded toward the phone. "Leave like that, I mean."

He shrugged. "She can't help it. It's her job. Some of her clients pay good money for her to fly out and help them wherever they are."

"That's a sucky way to live," she said, though she realized too late that she did so out loud. "Sorry." She shot him a sheepish look.

"It must be for her, but I don't mind. And she loves her job, so." Another shrug.

"How long are you staying for, anyway?"

"Just a couple of days," he said absently. "But you'll be begging for more as soon as I'm done."

"I'm crying already," she replied, and her brother stepped into the living room at that moment.

"Let's go, then." He looked at Clary. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, sis."

"Oh, darn. I guess I'll just throw away my joint and call off the party."

"See you later," he said with a smile, and the two boys were off.

She did pretty much nothing, as she usually did. She picked up her copy of _Frankenstein, _which she had to read for school, but set it down when the boredom turned into hunger. She made herself a Nutella sandwich and settled on watching TV, which was what Jace and Jon walked in to see her doing.

"Hey," she said absently, trying to find a good channel now that the _Full House _reruns were over. "What's up?"

"I'm thinking of ordering food, but I don't know if pizza'll be good."

"I'm surprised you didn't stop somewhere to get food," Clary said.

Jace walked in, carrying three bags. "A little help would be nice," he grunted.

She rolled her eyes and took the smallest bag. "And you call yourself a man."

"I'm offended."

"You're _always _offended."

"Talking about _always_ when you've only known me for a day is not very polite, Clary Fray."

"I care _so much _about your views on politeness, Jace Wayland, that they'll be the sole reason I'll stop talking."

Jon frowned. "Guys, the bigger problem is clearly the food."

"Order pasta from Domino's," Clary said. "We'll be right down."

"Yeah," her brother said, sounding distracted as he pulled out his phone. "What do you guys want?"

"The Primavera pasta thing," she said, already daydreaming about it making its way into her mouth. She was going to start drooling. Hunger began to hit hard.

"Alfredo with chicken," Jace replied, and the two of them made their way upstairs.

She set his backpack on Jon's bed, not saying a word. "You might wanna take the guest bedroom," she said. "Just a thought."

He shrugged. "I'll take whatever you have to offer."

"Do you _ever _get tired of saying things like that?" She was smiling despite her exasperated tone. She picked up his bag again and slung it over her shoulder. "I'll show you where it is."

The guest room was the room across from hers; they were the two rooms at the end of the hall. She opened the door. No one had slept in it for a long time, so it was mostly plain. There were a few unpacked boxes full of things they didn't need or care for. Art supplies were stocked up in the closet. The bed was full-sized, which was good enough for him, she decided. They could see the sunset through the window, which meant the room was darker than usual.

"Where's the light switch?" Jace asked.

"By the door."

He found it quickly enough. The lighting was dim; it hadn't been changed in a long time. "Thanks."

"No problem." She set down his bag on the bed. "It's not much, I know, but it's better than sleeping with Jon."

"He _does _snore."

"You've noticed, too?"

"How could someone _not_?"

"He denies it, like, all the time." He had her smiling already. _Oh, no_. "Anyway, we should go downstairs."

"Yeah."

"Oh!" She said it stupidly. "Hold on." She found the mini-closet in the hall and retrieved a towel. He was sweaty from practice, which meant he would _probably _want to take a shower. "Here you go," she said, handing the blue towel to him.

"Thanks," he said, looking slightly amused at the way she reacted. "Where's the bathroom again? I only went to the one downstairs."

"In front of Jon's bedroom," Clary told him. "It sucks that we all have to share it, but…" She let her voice trail off and shrugged. "Do you need anything else?" She felt painfully awkward as she asked.

He shook his head. "Thanks, though."

"You said that already."

"It's very uncharacteristic of me."

"Good to know," she said. "I won't be expecting it next time."

"I'll always say it to you."

"Why?"

"Because you're nice," Jace said, matter-of-factly. "I like nice people."

"Again, good to know."

"We should go downstairs."

"We really should," she said, and didn't wait for him to start walking.

Her brother announced that he ordered the pasta. "And I ordered breadsticks and soda, and Mom's definitely gonna kill me."

"Probably. What should I wear to your funeral?" asked Clary, pretending to think this through.

"I think you should wear a dress. You know, very typical. But tights, too, because of the weather." Jace sounded very serious as well. "And I'll wear a suit."

"Clary," Jon said, keeping his face straight the whole time. "Make sure that they bury me in my soccer uniform. And that they bury me with my favorite stuffed animal, which Mom kept because she's sentimental. Okay?"

"Got it." She wiped an invisible tear. "I'm gonna miss you."

"You're just gonna miss the parade of boys that come in after football games," he said, faking a pained face. "Not even your own brother can make up for that."

She nodded. "That's very true."

"Ah, good to know that love is in the air."

Clary's phone began to ring. _Sebastian Verlac_. "Hello?" she asked, her heart leaping at the thought of him calling.

"Clary." He said her name like a sigh. "I wanna know why you don't wanna go out with me."

"I told you, I can't." She rolled her eyes and mouthed _Sebastian _at her brother, who raised an eyebrow questioningly. She was only pretending to be annoyed, however, and was secretly thrilled.

"What about some other time, then?"

"Sebastian." She said his name with finality. "I can't go out with you."

"Why not?"

"Why do you wanna go out with me?"

"I think you're interesting."

"I'm not."

"I'd like to find out myself."

"I'm not interesting," she said slowly, "and you slept with my best friend, who can confirm that this is bullshit."

"I slept with your best friend? I mean, I'm into some stuff, but sleeping with Simon Lewis is not one of them."

"I meant Isabelle Lightwood."

There was silence on the other end. Just static. "Maybe I did," Sebastian said to her, "but that doesn't mean I haven't changed."

Did he _seriously _just feed her that line?

"Listen, thank you for asking me out, really, but I don't want to go out with you."

"Give me one good reason why not."

_Because you're an asshole_. She didn't want to seem like a total bitch, though, so she gave him the biggest lie she could think of, the one everyone has always used to get rid of someone they do not want to deal with: "I have a boyfriend."

"You…do?" He seemed stunned by this, as if a girl like her couldn't get a boyfriend. She didn't even have it in her to be offended; she should have seen it coming. "Who is it?"

_Well, crap._ "Jace Wayland," she said, making a face and mouthing _I'm so sorry _at the two boys. "He's new."

"I know who he is."

"Well, yeah. Sorry."

"He's a loser, you know."

"Yeah, I'm aware that my boyfriend is a loser." She smirked despite herself.

"This offer won't last forever, you know."

"I'm okay with dating a loser."

"Okay. See you around, then, Clary."

"See ya."

"I'm your _boyfriend_?" Jace seemed half-horrified and half-amused by this idea.

"I panicked," she said, "and I had to give him someone real, or he'd know I was lying."

"She's a pretty sucky liar," Jon added. "I don't see what's wrong with him thinking you two are dating."

"The fact that we have to pretend to date in front of the whole school now," she said. "Oh, god, what was I _thinking_?"

"We could have a fake breakup."

"He's gonna ask me out. I'm gonna have to say yes."

"I'd rather you marry Jace," Jon said, looking disgusted at the idea of Sebastian getting anywhere near his sister.

"I thought you liked him," Jace said, "and now you seem super repulsed by the idea of him."

"I'm super repulsed by the idea of jerks. He just…happens to be one of them," she said. "

"And you didn't know that before?"

"I chose to ignore it, and it became pretty evident when the whole state of New York rioted against me going out with him last night."

"Basically," Jon said. "Look, the guy's a jerk. And Isabelle said he was a bad kisser."

"I'm aware of that, which is why I'm trying to figure out how to avoid him while not fake-dating your new friend." She glared at her brother. "You're not helping."

"I'd usually suggest using Simon, but he got lucky."

"I don't mind," Jace said. "I mean, sure, my sex life is going to suffer from this, but it'll only be until he realizes that you don't wanna sleep with him, right?"

"And it won't be that hard," she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "We don't even have to kiss. We'll just say we're one of those couples that don't like PDA, and all we'll have to do is maybe hold hands as we walk to class and stuff."

"You're gonna have to stop going to parties," Jon reminded his friend.

"I hate Sebastian Verlac," Jace growled.

"You'll get your sex life back." She patted his shoulder. "I promise. Just give me two weeks. Make girls _really _want you, you know?"

"It can't be that bad, I guess." He sighed. "I'm only doing this because Sebastian Verlac is a jerk, and you're letting me stay in your house. Okay?"

"And I'm only doing this because I have to." She rolled her eyes. "I don't care."

Her phone started ringing. It was Isabelle. "You're dating Jace already?"

"How the hell did you find out already?"

"Oh, you know, I have my ways."

"_Isabelle_."

"This is, like, huge."

"Izzy."

"I mean—"

"Isabelle Lightwood, I am _not _dating Jace Wayland."

"What do you mean?" She sounded confused. "I thought—"

"I'm pretending to date him. You know, to keep Verlac away."

"Why?"

"Because _you _and everyone else in New York seem to think he's a jerk, and that he needs to be kept away. So I'm doing that. Keeping him away."

"But why Jace?"

"I panicked."

"You panicked and somehow ended up pretending to date your brother's new bestie?"

"It's not as simple as it sounds." The doorbell rang. "Look, I have to go. I'll explain later, okay?"

"Got it."

They ate in silence, and Clary mulled over the idea of dating Jace. Would it really be so bad? Yes. It would only be horrible, though, because she felt herself appreciating the little things he liked, the things that made him who he was. She didn't know the dark corners of him yet, but she found herself wanting to know.

And that would ruin her.

* * *

_Ahhh, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As always, I hope you'll let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time. xo _


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello! This was supposed to go up yesterday, but the site wasn't letting me upload. Thankfully, the problem was fixed, and I can update this story for you guys to read. :) As always, thanks to Katwood5 for being supportive and awesome and beta'ing this story, and thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited this story!_

_I know lots of you guys have told me to "skip the boring parts" and get to the plot, but it's important for me to develop Clary and Jace's relationship and to establish how she feels about him and vice-versa before anything starts happening, because Jace, being a human in this story, won't necessarily go out of his way to protect someone he doesn't care about. So he needs to know her and care about her and develop feelings for her. I'm sorry if you don't like it, I really am, but I need to develop the story and set a pace._

_Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

Sunday was uneventful and boring.

Clary, Jace, and Jon decided that it would be a good idea to _not _let Jocelyn and Luke know about Clary and Jace's "relationship," because it could get Jace kicked out over something that was not real.

They were lazy that day. There was breakfast at eleven, then Clary did some homework, and then they got back together and watched TV while eating lunch. Then the boys went outside to practice while Clary sketched, and she did some more homework, and then there was dinner. Luke and Jocelyn were there, and Clary kept wondering how Jace could deal with not having family dinners as she laughed at her mom's lame jokes.

"We're having a gala at the gallery in three weeks," she was saying, her eyes shining. "Clary, I think you'd love it."

She smiled. "I'll get a dress."

"So, Jace," Luke said, "how long have you been playing soccer for?"

"Always, really," he replied. "It's mostly always been football, but I've always liked taking a break and taking up soccer, even if it's not with a team or anything."

The boys started talking about soccer and other sports while Clary ate, which she didn't mind. Jace seemed really at ease with her family, which warmed her up on the inside, though she couldn't imagine why. Her brother's friends _did _typically get along with her parents, even though there were mostly side comments about how their mother was totally hot or whatever. Boys, she'd decided, were pigs.

But Jace wasn't saying any comments that were making her wanting to kill somebody. No, Jace was being polite, and nodding, and even though he wasn't this way with her, she smiled at it anyway.

Jon and Jace were on kitchen cleaning duty while Clary retreated herself to her bedroom. Luke and Jocelyn stepped outside with some wine, to do whatever it was that they did when it was dark and autumn. She made her way inside her room and found her phone.

No missed calls. Thank god.

She was halfway through her United States History homework when someone knocked on her door. It was Jace, which surprised her, even though it shouldn't have. "So," he said, "girlfriend, what're we doing tomorrow?"

"Showing up to school."

"I meant about our relationship."

"Unless you want to get married, I was going to suggest we just hold hands and pretend like we agreed on."

"Yeah, but, I mean, do I walk you to class? Do we sit together?" He was clearly having a hard time with this.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"I wouldn't necessarily call them _girlfriends_."

"Clearly." She snorted. "We just walk in together. Hold hands. No need to walk me to class or sit together."

"Isn't that what you do when you have a girlfriend? Never look away, her eyes are the most fascinating ever, blah blah blah?"

"Although my eyes _are _pretty fascinating," she said, "that's not necessary."

"Okay, so this won't be so bad."

"You could at least pretend like the idea of dating me doesn't sound like torture."

"Sorry." He shrugged. "I'm not used to this."

"I'll see you in the morning," she said, which was his cue to close the door.

* * *

She couldn't sleep.

Jace Wayland had her thinking about having a boyfriend, and it made her restless. Every time she pictured having someone to be with, his face showed up, and it annoyed the hell out of her.

She got up, finding the bed sheets suffocating and the air too stuffy in her room, no matter how low she set the AC's temperature. She opened the door of her room—

—and bumped into something hard.

"Jon?" she asked, but it didn't feel like her brother.

"Close enough," Jace muttered, his voice loud against the dark.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in the bathroom," he said, "and was walking back to my room when you hit me with your whole body."

"Sorry about that."

"Can't sleep?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

She nodded. "I keep thinking too much."

"I can't sleep, either," he confessed. "Sunday nights are hard for me to sleep."

"Same here," she said, surprised to find someone else who only had trouble sleeping the way she did on Sundays, knowing full well that she had to get up early the next day. "I'm going downstairs, if you wanna come."

"Sure," he whispered, and they made their way down the stairs.

The house, as it usually was at night, was eerily quiet. Clary was scared that her brother would catch them going down the stairs together and would think of it as something more than innocent, but her brother had been strangely understanding this weekend. He was okay with one of his friends getting close to Clary, which he usually wasn't. There was something about Jace, though. Something that made them all trust him without giving it a second thought.

She found it comforting. She found _him_ comforting, full of a strange familiarity that made her want to keep him around, even when she knew she couldn't.

She tossed him a water bottle from the fridge and sat beside him on one of the stools.

"Are you sure you're okay with tomorrow?" She was whispering so low that she could barely hear herself. "We could back out of it. I could tell him you dumped me and that I don't feel like going out anymore, and—"

He shook his head. "Do you hate me so much that you don't want me around, Clary Fray?"

It was the total opposite, and she didn't know how to tell him that without accidentally confessing that she felt an undeniable attraction toward him despite only having known him for a couple of days.

"It's not that," she said to him. "It's just that…you have more important stuff to deal with, and I can deal with Sebastian, and won't this whole thing just make things awkward between us? And I mean, you don't even know me." She was ranting, but she didn't care; all she could focus on was keeping her voice down and her mind from wandering to strange and wonderful places.

"Clary." His voice was firm. "I want to help you out. Think of this as me trying for redemption after having done some pretty awful crap. Besides, you were right earlier about this being taken thing helping my sex life."

She couldn't help but smile. "Thank you."

"I don't trust him," was all Jace said. "A guy that doesn't take no for an answer isn't one you trust to leave you alone."

It seemed like an obvious thing to say, but Clary realized that he meant she would need to have a guy around to keep Sebastian from jumping on her as soon as he got the chance.

"What does he even want with me, anyway?"

"He wants sex," he stated. Bluntly. "He knows you like him, and he knows you seem innocent and sweet and would agree with it—or, well, he thinks so."

"I wouldn't," she said, shaking her head.

"He doesn't know you," he replied. "So he wouldn't know."

"And he wouldn't have bothered to know me."

"Some of us suck," Jace told her, sliding off the stool. "You should go to sleep."

She nodded sleepily. Despite the fact that her lids felt heavy, she didn't think she would be able to get any sleep any time soon.

Once she made it to her bedroom, she felt alive. Awake. _Pissed_. Wanting to see Jace. He'd only been in her life for forty-eight hours, and she already felt something for him.

But she also felt small. Really, really small. She couldn't believe that a guy like Sebastian would actively seek out girls and basically take advantage of the fact that they found him cute. Sure, it was one thing to find someone cute, and sometimes she imagined kissing him, but she was in no way prepared to have sex with him. And, well, she knew that he wasn't exactly going to let her get away with saying no.

It made her feel like the smallest person alive to know that she could so easily be told to do something she would never consider.

Clary found herself standing in front of the guest room without really knowing what she would do. She knocked on the door thrice, hesitantly, scared of what would happen if the door burst open.

And, suddenly, as the thought crossed her mind, there he was. He was wearing his pajama pants and shirt, and his hair was sticking out in all directions while still managing to look like the best hair anyone could wear. "Clary?"

"Were you sleeping?" She made a face, not having considered that an option.

"I was trying to, but couldn't." He shook his head. "You okay?" He looked at her like it was weird that she was standing in front of his bedroom at two in the morning, but it kind of was.

"Can I come in?" She hated how small her voice sounded.

He nodded, opening the door wide enough for her to come in and shutting it when she was already near the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed, hugging herself. She didn't know what would happen when she stepped inside the room, but she felt herself growing emotional.

_Oh, no_.

"Clary?" He knelt in front of her. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head. "I can't sleep," she said, "and all I keep thinking about is that stupid Sebastian Verlac didn't even like me for _me _and would force me to have sex with him." She let out a deep breath. "But I guess it's stupid to think that any guy would look at me and think, 'Oh, there's a girl you wanna get to know,' or 'Oh, there's a girl you want to fall in love with.'" She laughed bitterly. "I'm an idiot."

He didn't say anything, just watched her as she wiped a tear and hugged herself closer. She didn't know why he wasn't saying anything, but it didn't matter. Getting the words out was helping, even if he wasn't saying anything particularly comforting.

But then he spoke. He said, "Clary," and ran a hand through his hair, repositioning himself as he did. He said her name like a sigh, but not like Sebastian Verlac had. He said it like it was a thought that always sat on his lips. "I'm not good with talking to girls I actually get along with. I suck at it, actually," he added, "because I've been Sebastian Verlac for a while—a better version, true, but I've also had sex with the girls who like me and maybe led them on a little when I shouldn't have." He didn't know why he was saying these things, but he kept saying them anyway. "I guess that's how I know that he's an asshole. An idiot. He's not worth your time or your thoughts or _anything._"

She wiped a stupid tear that fell from her eye, cursing it as she did. "I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this."

"I don't either," he replied, "but I'm glad you're telling me. Like I said, I suck at this. I don't know you that well, but I already think you're great. And I like knowing you. I like finding out how you react to things, and what you do every day, and how my name sounds when it comes from your lips."

As the room grew silent, she heard rain falling hard outside. The sound it made against the roof echoed around the house, giving them something to listen to when they couldn't say anything. "Jace?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you something?" She hesitated briefly before adding, "And can you not make fun of me for it?"

"I can try," he said, only half-joking, and gave her a nod.

"I haven't had my first kiss."

She didn't know why she said it. It was partly because he, being her fake boyfriend, had the right to know in case he tried to kiss her. It was also partly because she felt like she had to share _something_.

"I know," he said. "Well, I figured."

"You assume too much." They were so close, Clary thought, and she could feel her breath against his.

"It's one of my few faults." He sat up more so that he was face-to-face with her. "Can I ask _you _something?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

"How did you imagine your first kiss?"

She sucked in a breath, not knowing how to answer the question without crumbling. "I've imagined it many times," she said slowly, deciding to trust her voice. "But it's never about the place or the person. It's always about the feeling."

"What feeling?" His voice was barely audible. The rain beat down harder, making Clary feel like she was drowning too much feeling.

"I don't know," she replied. "It's a good feeling. Like…the kind of feeling you get when you're so happy you can't breathe, and you feel like you're flying."

There was silence.

And then: "Clary?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

She had her eyes closed—when had they closed?—and, when she opened them, she sucked in another breath. His face was so, so close. It was too dark for her to see him, but she saw the shape of his face, the strength of his jawline, and curve of his lips.

She nodded, not trusting her voice, because she knew that she would come undone if she tried to say a word.

When his lips met hers, her world came crashing down. It was like she had been feeling nothing for so long, and she was finally taking it all in: the taste of his lips like mint and the roughness of his hands against her skin. She cupped his face in her hands, bringing him closer, and smiled against his lips. The beauty of the moment was unreal; _he _was unreal. His hands dropped to her waist, and she didn't even try to stop him.

She never wanted to stop feeling his mouth connect with hers, never wanted his hands to stop exploring her bare skin. They grazed the skin of her sides as her shirt lifted with the kiss, and she didn't even bother to feel self-conscious. All she could want was there, in the kiss and in the words he'd said to her.

The first thing she felt when they broke apart, when his hands and lips and emotions were no longer on her, was emptiness. She looked at him questioningly, her eyes big and innocent against the stark night. He ran a hand through his hair, another hand resting on her knees.

"I'm so fucked," he whispered, and he kissed her again.

* * *

_Let me know what you think! x_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey, guys! It's Friday! (Which is sad for me, because it means this week is over and I only have three more days of break.) Anyway, I hope you guys are okay and that you enjoy this weekend. :) Thank you to Katwood5 for beta'ing this and recommending good music. Also, as always, thank you guys for reviewing/reading/following/adding this story to your favorites. You make my days and nights and everything in between. :P_

_I hope you like this chapter! _

* * *

The next morning was hell.

Clary wasn't a morning person, especially not when she was running on approximately three and a half hours of sleep, but she felt a little better that morning. Lighter. She'd spent half an hour with Jace, and they'd kissed for a good chunk of that time.

They were _both _fucked.

Sleepily, she threw on a mint green sweater, dark jeans, and her favorite pair of Converse. The sweater was too big on her small frame, but she didn't care. She grabbed her bag, making sure her art supplies were in it, and went out the door.

Downstairs, Jace, Jon, Jocelyn, and Luke were all in the kitchen, eating breakfast. "Jon's driving today, since Luke and I are both going to the gallery," announced her mom as a way of saying good morning. "Did you sleep last night?"

"Nice way of saying I look like crap, Mom." Clary groaned and sat on the stool next to her brother. "And yes, I did sleep."

"How much did you sleep?"

"Not much."

"Clary," her mother warned. "You're gonna start getting migraines."

"Too late."

Sighing, Jocelyn took out a bottle of Advil from her purse. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Clary said, serving herself some juice and swallowing the pills. God, even though she felt amazing after last night, the pounding in her head would _not _stop.

She hated high school.

"Get some sleep tonight, will you?" her mom asked, eyebrows raised. "I'll see you tonight."

"See you," Clary said, saying goodbye to her stepfather before the couple stepped outside and into the rain.

"It's been raining forever," Jon said. "Ever since last night, anyway."

"I like the rain," Clary said with a shrug. What she was really thinking was that she liked the rain when it served as background music to her moans against Jace's lips, to his hands roaming all over her back, to her smiles against his mouth.

"Me too," Jace said.

"Are you two ready for today?"

"What?" Clary frowned, and then she remembered. Fake boyfriend. Right. "Oh. That. Yeah, I guess."

"We didn't exactly practice," Jace said, "but yeah. We'll be fine."

"Just don't draw too much attention to yourselves." Jon rolled his eyes. "God knows Verlac's promoted your relationship enough."

"What?" Clary snapped.

"It's all over Twitter and Facebook and everything. He didn't flat out say you rejected him, but he _did _mention it to advertise his singleness and Jace's...relationship status."

"I hate that guy," Jace said. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah." Clary nodded. "Anyway, give me five minutes. I'll be right down."

She made her way into her bathroom and brushed her teeth. She finger combed her curls, finding them as impossible as always. Her freckles were sprawled all over her face, as if a five year-old had drawn them instead of her genes. Her green eyes looked particularly bright, but she still looked painfully ordinary.

She walked out of the room and almost ran into Jace, who was carrying a bag that she recognized as his soccer gear. "On your way down?" he asked, and she nodded.

She wondered if he was ever going to bring up the night before. She wanted badly to kiss him again, but she didn't know if he wanted it, too. They made their way downstairs in silence, every second killing Clary as she took each step.

Her phone vibrated, indicating that she had received a text. It was from Isabelle. _Ready to introduce your boyfriend to the world? You better look gorgeous for it xo_

She rolled her eyes at her best friend. _Whatever. I always look gorgeous, Isabelle. _

_Only because you've had me to teach you how ;) _was her reply, and it made Clary giggle all the way to the car.

Clary rode in the back on their way to school. The two boys chatted eagerly about the soccer came on Friday, and Clary couldn't _wait _until she finally got to school. She was listening to music, but she wasn't really _listening_. All she listened to was the rain, and the two a.m. kisses, and her heart racing so loudly that she thought it would burst from her chest.

They got to school soon enough. Clary had to use her umbrella to get inside without soaking herself, and it annoyed her; it was small, but she hated carrying it around. She shoved it in her locker the second she got the chance, and that was when Sebastian Verlac chose to approach her.

"Where's your boyfriend, Fray?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave her a grin. "Or are you free already?"

"Her boyfriend," Jace said, "is right here."

She searched for his hand and found it, as if it had been meant to be held by her the whole time. She gave him a sweet smile. "Sorry, but I'm still taken."

Sebastian kept up his friendly smile. "That's cool. See you guys around." But there was something in his eyes that said it was far from cool. That, and the way people had stopped to stare.

This was _not _good.

"You okay?"

"Sure." She shrugged.

"Listen—"

"Clary!" Isabelle Lightwood came storming in, wearing too-high heels and a too-tight top that definitely violated the school's dress code. "Hey," she said, giving her a smile. "We need to talk."

"Not right now, Iz," she said, giving her a pointed look. "Sort of in the middle of something."

"No, it's okay," Jace said. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Too late, she realized they were still holding hands. She dropped his too quickly and gave him a smile. "Sure."

"What's up with the sexual tension?" Isabelle asked as soon as Jace was out of earshot. "I mean, I know you two have this whole 'thing' going on, but _seriously_. That was in no way fake."

"Izzy—"

"Clary, that was _real_."

"_Isabelle._"

The intensity of her voice made Isabelle look at her. "Yes?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Do tell."

She dropped her voice to a whisper so that no one could hear. "I had my first kiss last night."

"What?!" Her friend's voice was so high and loud that the whole state of New York could hear her, and Clary cringed. "What?" she repeated, this time her voice becoming a harsh whisper. "Are you serious?"

Clary couldn't help but look excited as she nodded. "It was the most absolutely perfect kiss," she sighed. She tried not to sound like she liked it too much, but who was she kidding? She really, really liked that kiss. It was the kind of kiss you only dream about.

And it'd happened to her.

"Who was it?"

She cringed again. "I, ah, well—"

"I _knew_ it!"

"Izzy—"

"I _knew _something was up—"

"Isa_belle_."

"Fine, fine." But her best friend was grinning. "So it was really good, huh?"

"I don't know how people can go without kissing," she said.

"_Really _good." She looked impressed. "I like this dude if he can make you think kissing is heaven."

"But isn't it?"

"Simon's learning," Isabelle said. "Quickly enough, actually."

"Ew," Clary replied. The bell for first period rang, and they made their way to class. Isabelle was talking about something, but Clary's head—along with her heart—was in the clouds.

* * *

Jace didn't sit with her during lunch.

He met up with her after class, and they held hands all the way into the cafeteria. They let go as soon as it came to sitting, though, and they each sat with their respective friends. It didn't feel wrong to them but, then again, they weren't dating.

She _wanted _to date him. The thought haunted her throughout the rest of the day and after school, as she sat on the bleachers and sketched while the boys practiced. She hated that they were her ride home, but she hoped that nature would inspire her.

She was in the middle of drawing a pretty badass-looking tree when a shadow fell over her. It was Sebastian Verlac, sweaty from practice. "Do you have a second?" He didn't wait for her response, just sat beside her.

"Sure," she mumbled, setting her sketchbook down. "What's up, Sebastian?"

"Listen," he said. "There's a party on Friday. After the game. I was _hoping _you could come. I know you have a boyfriend, but you're pretty cool, Fray."

She hated that he called her what her best friend called her, but she nodded and gave him a sweet smile and said "I'll think about it" before going back to her sketch.

Almost immediately after she began working on her sketch, a shadow fell over her again. She was expecting it to be Sebastian, and annoyance filled her as she looked up.

But it was Jace, standing over her with beads of sweat on his forehead and a plastic cup full of Gatorade in hand. He sat beside her. "What'd he want?"

She set the sketchbook aside once again. "To invite me to Friday's party. Do you know about it?"

"Well, yeah," he replied. "I pretty much have to go."

She groaned. "And here I thought my Friday would consist of napping and reading and eating and more napping."

"You don't have to come," he said gently. "I could just say you're sick."

"That'll be useless," she told him, shaking her head. "I'll show up, I guess."

"I can always give you a ride back to your place."

She nodded, grateful. "You should get back. I'll see you when practice is done, okay?"

"Okay."

She sketched absently, her eyes trained on his back. She wanted the memories to stop coming to her, the feeling of him so close to her, but they were the only things filling her up. She wondered if she should be thinking about it that much. He wouldn't want her after this whole thing was over. The night before had been a charity act, and nothing more.

She began a new sketch. A girl. Her hair was a mess, and her face was house to freckles that looked like stars in the sky, and her eyes were bright. She wore her pajamas, and there was a boy. The boy had golden curls. He, too, wore his pajamas. And they were in the kitchen. Dancing. Their hands clasped tightly together, with no space for them to let go.

She'd started listening to music, letting it guide the direction of her sketching, but she started feeling weirdly emotional. Kind of like crying. She closed her sketchbook, shoved it in her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. She needed something from the vending machine, something to distract her before the sadness took her away.

She was back ten minutes later with a Coke and some chips and inspiration. Practice was still going on; it ended in twenty minutes. She sat down and started to shade the two people dancing, the sadness having gone away. It was a fantasy of hers: dancing in the dark with the refrigerator light when she was tired and sad and desperately in love.

Clary was almost done when the coach blew the whistle, announcing that practice was over. She stored her things away and carried her food as she made her way down the stairs.

Jon threw the keys at Jace. "I gotta pee," he explained, "so I'll catch up."

"My brother, ladies and gentlemen," she muttered, walking alongside Jace. "How was practice?"

"You mean you _weren't _paying attention to my hot ass?"

"Get your head out of said hot ass and answer my question." She was smiling.

He shrugged. "I kicked some ass for sure. We're winning Friday's game."

"You better. I don't wanna have to show up to a losing party, because victories are _way _more fun."

He was holding her hand, and she just now noticed. It made her tense up for a second before relaxing.

"You okay?" he asked, frowning.

"Yeah. It's just…weird. You know," she said, holding up their hands. "This."

"Ah." He nodded. "Trust me, I know."

They walked in silence to the car, until Clary said, "You know, you could still back out of this."

"Nah. You're fun," he said. "Besides, I already told you everything. Last night, I mean."

"About that—"

"We don't have to talk about it," he told her.

"I kind of want to," she replied quietly.

"Okay," he said, leaning against the hood of the car and letting go of her hand. She felt the absence immediately, but said nothing. "What do you wanna say?"

She felt uncomfortable. Awkward. Like any answer would be wrong. "I just wanna know if you meant any of it, I guess." She swayed back and forth. "If you even liked it. If you wanna do it again." What she wanted was for the earth to open itself up and swallow her whole.

He wore a half-smile that made her want to forget everything. It made her feel like her argument was slipping away from her by looking at it. "I don't say things I don't mean." He took a step toward her. "And I'm not about to start now." She felt her breath catch. And then: "I've been wanting to kiss you since I woke up this morning."

"So why don't you kiss me now?"

They were so close. He could do it. He could cup her face in his hands and give her a kiss she would never forget.

But Jace shook his head. "Your brother," he said, "would find out."

She wanted to ask if that would be so bad, but she knew it would be. It wasn't so much that they were kissing, but the fact that he was sleeping over, steps away from Clary's bedroom. Jon would flip his shit, and they both knew it.

She sighed. "Tonight?"

"Not too late. Migraines," he reminded her, and she was surprised that he remembered.

Jon showed up about two minutes later. "Let's go."

"Are we stopping for food?" asked Clary, climbing into the backseat. "Please say yes. I'm starving."

"Same," Jace added.

"When's Mom coming back tonight?"

"Uh, eight? Since they have a gala, she's probably busy."

"Can we order pizza?" Jon asked. "I'm tired, and I have a lot of homework."

"Fine by me," she said, and Jace made a noise of agreement.

The moment they got to their house, Jon claimed dibs on the shower, asking Clary if she could "pretty please" order the pizza. She ordered half chicken and half pepperoni. By the time she was done, her brother was still in the shower, and Jace was in his room.

Alone.

God, she hated herself.

She made her way into his room quietly. _I should be doing homework, _she thought to herself. _Homework is super important and definitely more useful than kissing Jace_.

Who was she kidding?

The light of the sunset streamed through the curtains, but he had the lights on. "Hey," he said. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a notebook on his lap, biting a pen. He noticed her looking and shrugged. "Bad habit."

She closed the door and sat next to him. The boldness came from somewhere she didn't recognize, from wanting to just kiss him already. "What're you up to?"

"Nothing that can't wait," he said, tossing the notebook and pen to the floor. "Where's Jon?"

"Shower."

"A long one?"

"Probably," she said, though she could tell that neither of them were sure by the way it came out.

"Fuck it," he said. "We have some time."

"Mhmm," she said, nodding absently. "Definitely."

Their lips met softly, anticipation building up inside her. He tasted like grape-flavored Gatorade, and she was aware that he was slightly sweaty and that his hair was messed up, but she didn't care. It seemed crazy that he hadn't been in her life only a few days ago. She wondered how she went so long without his lips on hers and his skin on her skin.

"You," he whispered, "should probably go."

"I don't want to," she said, breathing hard. Their foreheads were touching, and her hands were on either side of his face, and she wanted to stay in that room with him all night.

"Your brother's gonna get out of the shower soon, and then _I _have to shower."

"You can do that later."

"_Clary_."

She sighed. "I know."

"Later tonight, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

It took great strength to pry herself away from the bed and from him, but she managed it. She walked into her bedroom, plopped down on the bed, and started on her homework.

She was not going to pretend that kissing Jace and wanting to get to know him meant that she had knowledge about love. It was still something she hadn't experienced, something that she wasn't close to just yet. It was something she dreamt about at night, something that seemed insanely far away.

But she was also not going to pretend like she didn't want it to be possible. She _liked _Jace. She liked what she knew about him, and the way he said her name, and the way he was worried when she was. She liked to think that love was a faraway possibility between them. She knew that things could go very wrong between them, and that the possibility of love could fade as easily as it could show itself.

She had been thinking about it _way _too much.

The doorbell rang, and Clary got up, knowing it was the pizza. She picked up the twenty her brother left on the kitchen table and opened the door, the smell of food hitting her unexpectedly.

She smiled at the guy and gave him the money, telling him to keep the change while taking the pizza and soda.

"Food," Jon said, taking three slices from the pepperoni side of the pizza and pouring soda in a cup. "God, I'm starving."

"I'm sure God loves hearing you talk about food."

"I'm too hungry to come up with a good response to that." He was eating so aggressively that it kind of grossed her out.

"I'm going up to my room." She took her pizza and soda with her.

He didn't even seem to hear her, so she made her way up and into her room. She wasn't even that hungry anymore, but she ate anyway.

Her phone rang as she was chewing on her pizza. Sighing, she picked up with a mumbled "Hello?"

"Claryyyy!" Her best friend dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"You're either extremely bored or drunk."

"It's only Monday."

"I stand by my point."

She sighed. "I'm bored," she said, and Clary could almost picture her pouting, "and fighting with Simon."

"Oh, no."

"_I _wanted to make out but he kept trying to teach me how to play Dungeons & Dragons—"

"Isabelle," she snapped. "There is more to a relationship than sticking your tongue down the other person's throat."

"Says the girl making out with her housemate."

"Hey. Our situation is different."

"_Sure _it is, Clary."

"Izzy," she sighed, exasperated. "Just fix it. You two can fix it. You're friends before you're anything."

"It's not that easy."

"It's _so _that easy," Clary told her. "And I don't know why you'd get together with someone if you aren't at least going to try to be interested in what they love."

"I tried!" Isabelle fumed. "I _tried_. I'm not like you, okay? We don't have that much in common."

"You two," she replied, "are so utterly perfect for each other that it's blinding. You'll figure it out."

Isabelle let out a sigh. "But what if we don't?"

"I'm pretty sure you won't break up over Dungeons & Dragons."

"He's my first _real _boyfriend. I've never cared about anyone like I do with him," she said. "He's been my best friend for a really long time, but this is different. This isn't the three of us; it's the two of us. And it feels weird."

"You two will figure it out," Clary repeated, because she didn't know what else to say. She wasn't exactly in a position to give advice, what with a fake boyfriend whom she made out with at night—in secret.

"You sound like a broken record."

"I'm not exactly the love expert," she reminded Isabelle. "Listen, I have to go. Homework is looking at me all seductively. Talk to Simon and let me know how it goes?"

Her friend made a noise of agreement before hanging up.

* * *

_Let me know what you think! See you next Friday. xo _


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello, lovely people! I know this chapter's a day late, but I got home really late last night and just crashed. So here it is! Thanks to the awesome Katwood5 for beta'ing this, and thanks to all of you for reading/reviewing/following/etc. :D I hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

It was raining again.

The noise was the melody of the night as Clary tiptoed her way into Jace's bedroom. It was almost midnight, and she was exhausted, but she wasn't going to miss out on spending time with him.

No way.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Did you know," she whispered, "that fish can drown in the water?"

"I did not."

"Also, hi." She plopped down next to him on the bed after closing the door.

He shook his head. "How do you even come up with this stuff?"

"It's this thing called _learning_. And, also, the Internet."

"Strange concepts."

She smiled. "Can we get to the kissing now?"

"I know I'm insanely attractive," he told her, "but I like talking to you."

"I know. It's just—we can talk any time of the day. I can keep telling you weird facts that I get from the Internet and we can discuss them and I can ask you how you're doing and—well, you get the point." She sighed. "But kissing is a thing we can only do in the night."

"It kills me," he murmured.

"What?"

"It kills me that I can't kiss you whenever you want, and whenever I want."

"That makes two of us."

"Okay, you win."

She still had to get used to it, to the feeling of being kissed. It was magical to her, and she briefly wondered if it was like this for everyone else. If every kiss felt like she was holding her breath to let greatness happen, and she didn't mind that she wasn't breathing.

She left the guest room at one in the morning with heavy eyelids and her heart soaring.

They walked into school holding hands. They were clasped so tightly that Clary was afraid she would never be able to let go, and the thought brought a smile to her lips as she made her way to her locker.

Sebastian was walking by, making his way to her. _Great_, she thought, opening her locker and letting go of Jace's hand. She felt it get cold as she reached for her textbooks, and she managed to slam the door before Sebastian Verlac approached her and asked, "You're going to the party, right?"

"I said I'd think about it," she said.

"But she probably is," Jace said, draping an arm around her protectively. "You know, seeing as she's my date."

"And it would _suck _if you two broke up." Sebastian smiled innocently at the pair. "I'll see you Friday."

"See ya," Jace replied, keeping a cheerful tone.

"I don't know why he insists on it being me."

"Probably to piss off your brother."

Clary frowned. "Why would he wanna piss off Jon?"

"Because your brother," Jace said, but it sounded more like a sigh, "is the team captain. And Sebastian _really _wants to be the captain. And also your brother's hooked up with more girls than he has, so it's also a masculinity thing."

"I really don't need an insight into my brother's sex life."

He shrugged. "You asked."

"So I'm being used to piss off my brother?" She laughed bitterly. "Isn't high school just _grand_?"

"Hey." He stopped her in the middle of the hallway, apparently not caring whether the whole school saw them, and looked at her with such fierceness that it took her breath away. "I'm not gonna let him do _anything _to you."

"I know," she said, taking comfort in his words. "But I still hate the fact that he doesn't even think of me as a person, but as a trophy, something to use against my brother out of envy and pettiness."

"I never said his motives were good. I _hate _his motives. I hate his harshness. I could go on and on about how much I absolutely hate the fact that he's making you worry so much about yourself," Jace told her, taking her hand in his again. "But I won't. Because we're gonna be late to class."

"Ugh," she groaned. "Great. More stuff to stress about."

"Listen," he told her, his voice dropping to a whisper that only she could hear, "you know how much I suck at telling people things. I've been really good when it comes to expressing myself with you, and I don't know why, but I'm glad. Trust me, you're not just a trophy, and you're not just something to use against another person."

"Is it bad that I'm only thinking of how badly I want to kiss you?" She gave him a smile and mouthed _thank you_, because the words were drowned out by the bell ringing.

* * *

Clary couldn't focus on the teachers talking about the Civil War or Shakespeare or the periodic table or logarithms, because her mind was somewhere else.

She was traveling the world. Not always with Jace, but always with somebody. She was in Paris with Isabelle and London with Jace and India with her mother, and it kept her distracted from the utter boredom that threatened to consume her all day long.

Lunchtime was not so bad; Clary and Jace followed the previous day's routine and held hands until they had to say goodbye and sit with their respective friends. Clary knew that it was stupid to get so happy over his words that morning, because Jace could be one of those protective boys. She didn't know him, and she wasn't sure she fully knew his intentions.

The voice that whispered reason into her ear was flung out the window by the one that whispered the fantasies that kept her smiling all day long.

Sometimes that was all people needed. A voice during the middle of the day telling them that maybe their dreams are not too wild to come true, that their deepest wishes and most hidden desires could become true if they just hoped hard enough for them. Sometimes life is so bad and people are so cruel that it's all you hang on to.

Not that she could complain. Her life wasn't too bad. She was in a good place economically, and she had good friends, and good grades, and a home, and good music, and always a good book to read, and food in her stomach.

And she had a boy.

But sometimes there's one little thing that brings a person down, and the fact that she could so easily be viewed as an object instead of a person—and not in a flattering way at _all_—made her want to scream. She wasn't the kind of girl who knew enough about being wanted to deal with this in a well-rehearsed manner, because boys didn't look at Clary. This was the most attention she'd gotten from a boy who wasn't related to her—or wasn't Simon—in her entire life, and one of the boys was using her as a tool to gain revenge.

The other one's motives could be either heartbreaking or romantic beyond belief, and she knew that not even he was sure of what he wanted.

By the end of the day, she was exhausted. Soccer practice consisted of her pretending to doodle while secretly peering at Jace over the pages of her sketchbook. Sometimes he would catch her eye, and sometimes she would look at him in secret.

"Pizza again?" Jon asked as they climbed into the car.

"No," Clary said. "Mom's already home. She said she was stopping by to make us food while getting some paintings to take to the gallery."

"Sweet," her brother replied. "I've missed homemade food."

"Maybe you should learn how to cook," she teased.

"Likewise, little sister."

"You two," Jace commented, "are going to starve to death when you go off to college."

"We can't all be masters of the kitchen," Clary told him, trying to seem glum, but she was smiling.

They drove in silence, with Clary listening to her music on the way to the house. Her brother stopped for gas, but Jace didn't try to talk to her, and she didn't want him to. She was too tired to talk. She just wanted to listen to music and fall asleep and not worry about anything, not even the way too cute guy who made her feel like she was flying in the middle of the night.

* * *

Jocelyn looked tired when the three of them got home, and it was the first thing Clary noticed.

When Clary asked if she was okay, her mother just nodded and said, "I'm just a little tired," which didn't convince her at all. She let it slide, though, because arguing would just increase her own tiredness and ability to deal with everyday things.

Her mom had only started _really _getting into the art gallery after Clary had entered high school. Before that, she'd kind of been a soccer mom, but she didn't really like the scene. She did it for Jon and Clary, because they didn't have a father.

But then she married Luke after Clary graduated middle school, and they started working on the gallery together, and it was all they ever did. The art sold, so it was good, and Clary liked seeing her mom so happy. Sometimes, when she went out with her friends, she liked to stop by to see her mom working or to just see the paintings and admire what her mother had built over the past two years.

When her mom was tired, it usually meant one of two things: business was either going extraordinarily well or exceptionally bad. And she hoped it was the former.

They ate lasagna on the couch while watching TV. Clary sat next to her brother, who was eating the food like there was no tomorrow.

"You're gonna choke," she told him.

"I'll die happy."

"You're ridiculous."

"Uh-huh."

"_Jon_."

"_Clary_." It didn't sound like her name when he said it while chewing. It sounded like _Clehruhhh_, but she was fluent in her brother's language.

"Shut up," Jace said. "_The Simpsons _is back on."

She didn't think she could be any more surprised by Jace, but he always said or did something that shocked her.

"First of all—"

"Oh, no," Jon mumbled.

"—do _not_—"

"_Jace_," Jon groaned, shaking his head.

"—tell me to 'shut up.' Ever."

"She really hates it when people tell her to shut up," her brother explained. "She always has. She gets _so _defensive, it's crazy."

"I just don't like it."

"I am so very sorry, Clary Fray. Can we _please _watch _The Simpsons _now?"

"We may," she said, hiding the smile that crept onto her face.

She _did _hate it when people told her to shut up. For some reason, though, it hadn't bothered her as much with him. Sure, she still warned him, but the mood she was in—the mood of admiring his gorgeousness—was enough to keep her happy and not criticizing everything he did.

Not even when he told her to shut up. At least not as intensely as she would have, anyway.

This boy changed her, and it drove her crazy in the best kind of way.

Clary did the dishes while Jon took a shower, and Jace came downstairs to help her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she shrieked in surprise, jumping and dropping the plate she was working on into the sink. Thankfully, it didn't break.

"Jace Wayland," she said, her heart hammering against her ribs, "you scared the crap out of me."

"Nice to see you too," he said, planting a kiss on her neck before stepping aside. She felt butterflies in the spot he'd kissed, like he left a trail of wonderful life wherever his lips touched her skin. "Need any help?"

She tossed him a towel. "You can dry."

They worked in silence. She was always really scared that other people would find her boring and dreadfully ordinary due to her silence. She just wasn't really the kind of person who spoke a lot unless she _really _felt like saying something. But Jace didn't seem to mind. He seemed to enjoy the silence, and he stepped into it just as comfortably as she did.

"Hey," she said suddenly, deciding to be fearless. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," he said, grabbing a plate from her outstretched hand.

She bit her lip and grabbed another plate. "Would you date me? And not in secret," she added. "I mean, like, for real. Publicly."

"Should that even be a question?"

"It's one you're avoiding."

"I'm not avoiding it, Clary." He seemed appalled. "I'm _not_. I'm just surprised that you'd think that I wouldn't date you, or that anyone wouldn't be lucky enough to date you."

"Jace—"

His voice was low, even though they could both hear the water running in the shower. "I know I don't know you well enough yet," he told her. "I know that I need to know so many parts of you. And that's okay. I _want _to, Clary. I've never really been interested in people or romance or knowing any girl in a way that isn't purely physical or friendly, but you make me want to stay up talking until I can't keep my eyes open anymore."

She let out a breath. "Is that a yes?"

He reached out and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Yes."

"We should, you know."

"Should what?"

"Date."

"We technically are."

She sighed. "_Jace_."

He dropped the smirk he was wearing. "I want to," Jace replied to her. "But I think we should wait. I've only known your brother for a month, and you for four days."

"Technically five."

"You think he's gonna care?"

"Why do you care so much about what he thinks?"

"Because, Clary, I'd like to actually be on your brother's good side. Especially if I wanna date you."

The words made her feel indescribably warm. Her cheeks were colored red, like her hair. "Okay. I get it."

"But," he added, "as soon as I can, I'll take you out."

"Does Friday count?"

"Sebastian Verlac's party?" Jace snorted. "No. I mean a real date. One you'll actually like."

She smiled. "That sounds nice."

"It will be," he whispered.

The shower's water stopped running, and they resumed their work in the kitchen. Clary tried to slow down her breathing and her heart and her thoughts, taking deep breaths and trying not to look at Jace. But she couldn't help it. He was so very much _there _and he was looking at her with a smile and purposefully making their fingers touch and he was making her want to kiss him so _badly_. But she couldn't.

Her brother entered the kitchen when they finished. "Jace, the shower's all yours."

"Sweet," Jace said.

"Thanks," Clary blurted out. "For helping with the dishes." She glared at Jon as she said, "This asshat doesn't usually like to help."

"Asshat?" Jon gasped, placing a hand over his heart. "I'm wounded."

She rolled her eyes and set down the towel she was holding. "I'll be in my room."

"Hold on," Jon said. "I wanna talk to you."

"Okay?" She watched, briefly, as Jace went up the stairs. Her gaze then settled on her brother. "What's up?"

"Jace told me about Verlac." Jon spat out Sebastian's last name, not even bothering to say his first. It was the way a coach would say a player's name, Clary mused. "He told me that he thinks the reason he's asking you out is to get back at me, because he won't stop insisting. And, well, I kind of think he's right."

"Sport rivalries are so freaking petty," Clary said.

"I know." He nodded. "I'm sorry. I wanna say that I can fix this for you, but…" He let his voice trail off. "I can't give up my position on the team. Even if I wanted to, the coach would make a big deal out of it. I'm gonna have a talk with Sebastian," Jon added, his voice lowering, "but at least you have Jace to help you out. You know, with the whole boyfriend thing."

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Right. But Sebastian doesn't care about Jace being my 'boyfriend.'" She used air quotes for the word _boyfriend_ while wishing she didn't have to. "This is such a stupid plan. This is such a stupid _situation_."

Jon nodded again, as if he didn't know what else to do. "I wanna help."

"But you can't."

"Right."

She sighed, standing up. "Whatever. It's fine. I can handle Sebastian, and you and Jace are clearly on top of this."

"Speaking of Jace?"

She tensed up. "What about him?"

"You two get along, right? Like, you don't think he's a dick and want to slap him every five seconds?"

"Well, I can't promise you the latter," she mused, remembering some of their conversations, "but we do get along really well, yeah. Why?" She hadn't meant to ask, but curiosity got the best of her.

"I wouldn't want you to have a fake boyfriend you couldn't stand."

_Quite the opposite_. She wouldn't tell him that, though, and instead shook her head. "I like Jace. He's fun, and he's been really nice throughout this whole thing."

"Yeah," her brother agreed. "I kept asking why he would do something like this, especially when he has this tendency to usually just hook up with girls and then never call 'em, but he just said that he considered me a friend and thought you were cool and that guys like Sebastian Verlac shouldn't be allowed near girls like you."

"Or near any type of girl," she said, but agreed nonetheless. "Well, there you go. It's cool."

He nodded. "I just wanted to make sure."

They weren't good at keeping the conversation going, so Clary stood up. "I'll be in my room."

* * *

_Let me know what you think! See you next time :) xo_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hi, guys! It's technically already Saturday (sorry!), so I (once again) apologize for not uploading on time. My cousin graduated from college today, so it was a crazy, wonderful, exciting day, and I've been out and about since 6am. The next few weeks should be calmer, though, so yay! Anyway, massive thanks to Katwood5 for beta'ing this. Love you! Also thanks to all of you lovely readers. I hope you like this! xx_

* * *

They didn't kiss that night.

Clary wanted to. She wanted to feel the taste of him again. She loved how he tasted like spearmint and sleepiness, and she longed for that every second of the day.

But they didn't kiss.

Jace was wearing his pajamas and sitting cross-legged on his bed with his math textbook open when Clary walked in. He had a pencil in his hand and was tapping the textbook's page with it. _Tap tap tap tap, tap, tap tap, tap. _

"Are you planning on becoming the world's next drumming hit?"

He smiled before meeting her eyes. "I didn't finish my homework. Fell asleep."

"Was practice really that bad today?"

"We have a game on Friday. It's Tuesday, and one of the guys is out with bronchitis. Yeah, it was bad."

She sighed. They had to keep their voices down at night, in case someone decided to wander around. "I'm sorry," she whispered, sitting beside him on the bed. "Can I do anything to make it better?"

"You can help me finish my homework so I don't fail math."

"Not the kind of answer I was expecting."

He gave her a sad smile. "I know. Sorry. I just really need to get this done."

"Okay." Despite her disappointment, she managed a smile and looked down at the textbook, even though she would have definitely preferred going back to her room and sleeping.

She helped him finish the homework, though it took them both a while. Clary was a sophomore, and Jace a junior, which meant that he was a year ahead in math. Luckily, she got some of it while reading from the book, which meant she was able to help him. It brought a smile to her face when his brows knitted together in confusion, or when he got something right and a smile crept onto his face and made him seem much lighter. She wanted to capture every moment she had alone with him and keep it in her heart for the rest of her life.

They finished just before one in the morning. Clary said, "I'm going to sleep" with a yawn to finish off the sentence and a sheepish smile following it. "Night."

"Night. And, hey, thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

The next day went like any other: breakfast, school (where Clary had to pretend to be Jace's girlfriend while holding in her craving for his kisses), soccer practice (where Sebastian and Jon had an almost-fight, but Clary did not know this, because she was too busy doodling to pay attention), and then home.

Jocelyn was there early, once again, but this time she was not going back to the gallery. "I'm staying here," she said, smiling. "Resting. Luke is insisting, and I trust him."

"I don't think you wouldn't have married him if you didn't," Clary said, giving her mother a look that said that she should listen to her husband's advice. "What're you making?"

"Pasta and steamed veggies."

"You do realize you have starving boys in this house, right? _Two _of them?"

"There's also chicken," her mom replied, rolling her eyes. "By the way, how _is _Jace? I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him, and I know you three spend a lot of time together."

"He's fine, I think? I don't know." Clary shrugged, hoping she was appearing as casual as she wanted to. She did _not _need her mom finding out about her attraction to Jace. "I don't talk to him that much."

"It must be awful to have a parent who's never there," Jocelyn said. Clary wanted to tell her that, as of late, she hadn't been there that much, either, but decided against it. The last thing her mom needed was guilt weighing her down.

"I guess."

"Are those two ever coming down for dinner?" She glanced at the stairs. The two boys had gone straight up, only mumbling their hellos.

"I think they're showering first. Do you want me to check?"

"Please do," her mom replied, giving her a kind smile.

Upstairs, her brother was in his room, on the phone. She knocked on his door, which was partly open, and swung it open completely when he didn't react.

"Look," he said, annoyed, "I know that you like me. You have made that _very _clear. In many ways. Thank you for some of those, by the way. But," he regained his composure, "I don't like you. And I don't wanna hook up with you anymore. Got it?"

_Kaelie? _Clary mouthed, and he nodded while rolling his eyes.

"That sucks for you," he said dryly, all attempts of breaking the news to her (for the billionth time) amicably completely gone. "I have to go."

Once he hung up, Clary said, "Mom just wanted to know when you're coming down for dinner."

"Are we having an actual dinner, or?"

"I think we're not," she replied. "I think Mom's gonna nap."

"Is she okay? She looks kinda—"

"—crappy? She's tired. Luke told her to take the afternoon off, and it worked."

"Good."

The two of them walked downstairs, only to find their mother eating. "I got tired of waiting for you," she said.

"Thanks, Mom," Jon said sarcastically, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Jace is taking a shower, so."

Clary tried hard not to think of Jace in the shower, but images played in her mind anyway. Suppressing a sigh, she took a plastic plate from the cupboard and served herself some pasta and veggies.

"I'm going upstairs," she said, holding up her food.

Her mother and brother waved her off; they were too distracted by the food. Rolling her eyes, she made her way upstairs and into her room, shutting the door—and almost dropping the plate she so carefully held.

Because sitting on her bed was Jace Wayland.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered harshly, setting down her plate before she dropped it.

"Thought I'd stop by," he said, the corners of his mouth lifting. "Is your brother downstairs?"

"He could come up any second."

"He wouldn't come up to check on me."

"He might," Clary said, but her argument was falling apart and her door was shut and he was standing _right there, _and would it be so bad if she gave in and let him kiss her? She saw that it was what he came to her room for, to give her the kiss that they'd been wanting for over twenty-four hours.

Jace stepped closer. "He won't."

She didn't know what it was about him. This was something Isabelle would do. Clary was always the one who said that she was going to wait, to really get to know someone before she let herself feel something. She was the one who was going to build a friendship before jumping on to the romance part of things, but Jace made her feel something that made her lose all reasoning.

Her mind went blank as he kissed her, quickly filling with the thoughts that involved tugging on his hair and standing higher on her tiptoes. She didn't care that there were still infinite numbers of conversations to have and things that they kept in the dark. All she cared about was having his lips on hers, and she didn't care how irrational that was.

She was breathing heavily when they broke apart, but she couldn't help but smile. "Well, my food probably got cold."

"Yeah, you're welcome." Jace rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Are you coming tonight?"

"Think so," she replied. "I have a lot of homework, but…"

"…but I'm irresistible," he finished, his smile turning into one of his cocky grins. "I know."

"Out," she said, pushing him. "I hate you." Her efforts were useless; she was a whole foot shorter than he was.

"I'm leaving." He held his hands up in surrender and opened the door, walking out of her room after winking.

She shook her head, locking the door. She felt shaky, but in the best way. She wanted _more_. So much more. "Shit," she whispered, and sat on her chair. She wasn't even hungry anymore—not for food, anyway. She was hungry for his kisses, for the feeling of his skin against hers.

_I'm screwed_.

* * *

She chewed on her lips as she tapped her pencil against her desk, without rhythm. The clock read 11:47, and Jace had still not texted her.

She was kind of going crazy—she was drowning in schoolwork, Isabelle and Simon were _still _fighting, and the fact that Sebastian Verlac was an asshole and would be at the party on Friday was haunting her. The only thing that served as a much-needed distraction was the thought of hanging out with Jace. She decided thirty-six minutes before that she didn't really _need _him to kiss her. She just wanted to spend time with him, to talk about everything and nothing all at once.

He texted her at 11:53 when thoughts of calling it a night and giving up on homework altogether crossed her mind. She made her way quietly into his room, careful that her brother wouldn't suddenly open the door to his own bedroom.

She closed the door quietly behind her, locking it. Jace was lying down on his bed—because, to her, it was _his _bed now, for some reason—with his eyes closed, but he opened one of them once he heard the door click shut. "Hey."

_Why'd you take so long to text me_? Clary wanted to ask, but she kept quiet. She didn't want to seem annoying or clingy, because it wasn't like he was _all _she thought about. He was just the only thing in her life that didn't require outrageous amounts of work.

"Hi," she said, sitting cross-legged across him. She wanted to lie down, but she felt shy, for some reason. "Is it okay if I—"

"Yeah," he answered, knowing what she would say before she knew it herself.

She lay down next to him quietly, closing her eyes. She was tired of everything, but somehow she could only find the will to sleep in his bed instead of hers. The backs of her eyelids burned, and she felt her body relax.

"You okay?" Jace whispered, a hint of amusement behind his voice.

"Jace Wayland," said Clary, though it came out slightly sluggish due to her exhaustion. "You can't just text me really late and then expect me to not be tired and want to make out with you."

"I was just gonna ask if you wanna go to your room."

She opened an eye, as hard as it was, and then the other. "What?"

"You look tired."

"I _am _tired."

"So maybe you should sleep."

"I like being with you, though."

"I know." He smiled. "We can do this when you're not this tired."

"I'm always this tired."

"Not always. I've noticed it firsthand."

"_Fine_." With a great deal of effort, she sat up, every bone in her body aching and protesting against her movements. "I'm going."

She inched closer to him; he was sitting up, too, and they grew close enough to touch in a matter of seconds. It was tempting, she thought, to stay there with him and forget school and forget everything there was to remember.

He kissed her gently; it was so soft that it felt like a ghost of all the kisses he'd given her before, but she loved it in a different kind of way. It still made her smile.

"Goodnight, Wayland."

"Bye, Clary."

* * *

Thursday went by slowly, but things picked up at lunch.

Kaelie approached Clary for the first time in forever. She tossed her long, blonde hair over her shoulder as she sauntered over to her. "Clary," she said, but she shouldn't have—they were, after all, standing by Clary's locker. "I need to ask you something."

She slammed her locker's door loudly, knowing it would at least scare the idiot a little. It did. "What do you want?"

"Is your brother gonna be at the party on Friday?"

"Considering it's the _team_'s party, and my brother's the _captain, _then yeah, I suppose his attendance is at least slightly important."

Kaelie looked pissed. "You don't have to be so damn rude about it."

"And you don't have to be an obsessive bitch, yet here we are." Clary smiled tightly. "Try not to embarrass yourself too much at the party."

Obviously offended, Kaelie sauntered off in the other direction, holding her head up high.

Isabelle caught up to her in a matter of seconds. "I didn't wanna interrupt," she said. "What happened?"

"Nothing." She shrugged. "She just wanted to know if Jon was going to the party."

"I swear, that girl is crazy."

"Tell me about it." Clary rolled her eyes. "I need to find Jon and tell him that she's already planning their wedding."

"Which might be a good idea, since Simon and I are eating outside today. We sort of, uh, need to talk," Isabelle explained. "About some stuff."

"Okay," she replied. "We'll talk later?"

"Sure."

Clary made her way into the cafeteria alone, hoping not to run into somebody unpleasant, though she couldn't think of anyone more unpleasant than Kaelie—except maybe Sebastian, but she didn't want to worry about him. Not ever. Wasn't that the whole point of being with Jace? To feel safer?

She sighed and, once she got her food, made her way over to her usual table. It felt kind of pathetic to be sitting by herself, but she didn't mind. She pulled out her sketchbook and decided she'd doodle while eating.

Sometimes, she could be very aware of her surroundings while she doodled. She could notice people passing her by and would cover her work as they did to make sure that they wouldn't have a clue of what was in her mind. But sometimes she got sucked in, her mind working so fast that she didn't even notice the most obvious things.

Which was why, when she finally noticed that a certain blond-haired boy was sitting in front of her, she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus!" She closed the sketchbook, not knowing why; she was only sketching some intricate flowers and patterns. "What're you doing here?" Sarcastically, she added, "Sweetie."

"You looked lonely."

"That doesn't properly answer my question, Wayland." She put away her sketchbook and took a sip of her soda.

"You looked lonely," he repeated, "and I like you."

"Fascinating."

"Seriously, though, where are your friends?"

"They're arguing. Or working out their argument." She shook her head. "I don't know. Their love is weird."

"Love is weird in general."

"Agreed."

"So I saw you talking to Kaelie earlier."

"And you didn't come over to say hi?" Clary faked disappointment.

"You looked like you were in the middle of forming a beautiful friendship."

She snorted. "She's a stalker."

"She's got an unhealthy obsession with your brother, but do we _have _to use labels?"

She threw a French fry at him. "Not funny."

"She _is _kind of crazy," Jace said, subtly glancing over at the table she sat at, the one next to the soccer players' table, the one where _he _should have been sitting. "But, you know, I think she's just lonely. She knows she's a bitch, and she won't change, but it kind of kills her that the guy she wants is the one who doesn't want her."

"You're not supposed to get her." Another fry landed on his shirt, and he brushed it off. "Seriously, Jace, get with the program."

"She's a horrible human being." His smile made her smile.

"Good."

"What were you sketching?"

She frowned. "What?"

"You were sketching before."

"Yeah. Flowers."

"Can I see?"

"No."

"We can make out, but I can't see your art?"

"Maybe later."

He sighed. "You're impossible."

"Only on days that end with a y."

He laughed, and they left it at that, with him shaking his head and her smiling in satisfaction. They ate their food silently, and she held her sketchbook close, knowing that he could reach over and take it from her.

She didn't know why it suddenly scared her. She'd been very open with Jace about everything so far, but him flipping through her sketchbook and looking at her art, at the things that came from her heart and that lay in the deepest parts of her mind, terrified her.

"Don't get this the wrong way," Clary started, "but how come you came to sit with me? I thought we decided we wouldn't."

Jace shrugged. "I wanted to hang out with you. You're pretty cool."

"Thanks." Her sarcasm didn't go unnoticed. "But I'm serious."

"It's true. I also didn't want Verlac to see you sitting alone as a chance to come be a dick."

"How thoughtful of you."

"I do like you."

"I know." But she liked to hear him say it.

"I'll try to make more time for us to hang out." His smile gave her the message that his definition of hanging out meant more than he was giving away by just speaking these words, and she was insanely okay with that.

"Are we still going to the party tomorrow?"

"Please refrain from sounding so overwhelmingly excited."

She made a face. "I just don't wanna go, but I feel like I have to."

"You don't."

"I have to prove a point to Sebastian." She didn't want to admit to Jace that, despite her newly discovered hatred for Sebastian, she was still hurt that he was not the guy she expected him to be. She still wanted him to be a spectacularly flawless guy she could pine over, because that was better than having to deal with the fact that he was an absolute dick. She didn't want to carry that around with her, but she didn't seem to have much of a choice.

God, she hated high school.

* * *

_Let me know what you think! xo_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hi, guys! Here I am, with the Friday update, even though I thought I'd be too busy/tired to update. Yaaaay! Anyway, I'll make this quick. Thank you to Katwood5 for beta'ing this (and for putting up with my lack of communication this week, too!), 'cause you're awesome. Seriously. Also, many thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing! Holy crap, over 100 reviews! Thank you. (I don't usually use so many exclamation marks, I promise.)_

**_Also, you guys should very seriously read _We Were Liars _by E. Lockhart. I just finished it, and I don't think I'll ever be okay again. That woman writes the way I wish I could, and that book is amazing. So, so goooood. Ahhhh. My heart._

_Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

That night, she seriously started to question her choices.

Clary had never been one to make decisions without thinking them through. She didn't want to end up living the worst kind of life because of _one _stupid mistake. She didn't want to end up brokenhearted or failing high school or trying to make up that _one _thing to people who would never see her for anything more than her failures. So she always tried to do her best and think things through before she made _any _decisions, which was what made her so much like her mother and so unlike her brother.

Jace was waiting for her in his room. He didn't have any homework, because the teachers wanted the players to be ready for their game the next day, so he'd done nothing all day except go to practice, eat, practice with Jon, shower, eat, play video games with Jon, and nap. Clary had caught glimpses of the two of them doing these things, which was how she knew what they'd been up to.

Lucky bastards. She, on the other hand, had to write two reports, do math homework, read a chapter for history, and start on her next art assignment.

She closed the door as softly as she could muster, hoping her brother was getting a good night's sleep for the game and not texting some girl to see whether or not they would hook up during the party. Clary made her way over to Jace's bed, sitting beside him.

"Hi," she breathed, suddenly nervous. She felt like that during the most random times. Sometimes, she would feel confident, like nothing in the world could bring her down, like he made her omnipotent. But, other times, she felt as though he could make her crumble with a whisper or a touch, or even a look.

"Hey," he said. "So I've been thinking."

_Just kiss me already_, she thought. "Mhmm?"

"We don't have to go to the party."

"Jace—"

"We might not even win."

"Jace, you're a part of the team, and we're going." She was surprised by her firmness, especially since every part of her was screaming to tell him the opposite. She was lazy and slightly terrified that Sebastian might catch her alone for one second, because boys like him could be terrifying when they were determined.

"You're not okay with this."

"I'm _fine._"

"I can tell."

She sighed, exasperated. "You wanna go, don't you?"

"It's not worth it."

"Answer my question."

He ran a hand through his hair, and she couldn't believe that they were having this argument over a stupid party. "Yeah. But," he added, "I don't wanna risk it. Sebastian's a dick, and he's dangerous, and if he starts something—"

"That's why I'll have _you_ there." She couldn't resist; she kissed his cheek as softly as she could and drew back, smiling. "I trust you."

"You don't even know me." He looked like he hated himself for giving her that line.

"I know that you're better to have around than he is," Clary told him. "And I know that you kiss really, really well."

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

He wore a playful smile, and his eyes danced. "And have you missed those kisses?"

"I could go without them."

"So I guess you don't mind if we cut our meeting short." His smile betrayed him, and their lips touched softly seconds later.

"You're not funny," she said as she pulled away, taking a deep, shaky breath. "At all."

Their lips met again. She liked the way he kissed her: not too slow, but not too quickly. He kissed her like there was no tomorrow but all of today, too, and she savored every second that passed them by.

She gasped against their kiss when his hand found her skin. It rested hesitantly at the small of her back, and she continued to kiss him, letting him know that it was okay. He didn't bother to move it, but used it to hold her in place, and it was enough for her. He pulled her onto his lap, and she didn't have it in her to resist. She didn't want to—not even a little, not even the most insecure parts of her.

He was wonderful. The way his lips moved against hers, his hands careful and reckless all at once…she wanted to die of happiness.

She breathed hard once they pulled away, smiling. She was high on happiness, and she didn't want to come crashing down. "You're not too bad at this."

"I was about to tell you the same thing."

Her smile turned into a grin upon hearing his words. "Really?"

He nodded, biting his lip. _God_, she thought, _he is too sexy. _"Really. You drive me crazy sometimes, Clary Fray."

"Right back at you, Jace Wayland," she whispered, her voice shaky against the stillness of the dark.

"You should get some sleep," he said to her, though he looked like the last thing he wanted was for her to leave.

She nodded, biting her lip. He kissed the top of her head, and she smiled. "I don't wanna go."

"I know. I don't want you to. But it's kind of late."

"Ugh," she said, untangling herself from him. "I hate school."

"Who doesn't?"

"Clary," Jace said, grabbing her hand before she could make her way over to the door. "I leave on Saturday. You know, I get to go home."

"Your mom's already here, isn't she?" She'd forgotten about his mom's arrival.

"Yeah, but your parents insisted that I stay here, because she just got in an hour ago. And, since tomorrow's the party…" His voice trailed off. "I just wanted to tell you."

"Thanks for ruining my night."

"I didn't mean to," he said, pulling her close. His voice dropped to a whisper. "We're gonna have lots of nights like these. I'm still your brother's friend."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that you're coming to our house to make out with his little sister, does he?" She scowled. "If he finds out, he _will _kill you."

"I don't think he'd mind that much."

"He'd mind if you tell him how long it's been happening, so we need to wait. You know, until after you're gone. Maybe even a little after the whole Sebastian thing blows over. And then," she added, "we can make something up. But I just have a feeling that nights like these won't be too frequent." Clary pouted, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I want them to be, though."

"I second that statement."

She smiled. "I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

Isabelle came over the next day after school to help Clary prepare for the party because, if it wasn't obvious, she'd never gone to a party before.

"You have no party clothes," said her best friend as she rifled through Clary's clothes. "Seriously!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, sighing. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Let me go wearing something simple?"

"As if."

"Izzy," said Jon, rolling his eyes. Clary jumped, not having noticed he was standing by the door. "Don't give her one of your outfits. We wanna keep Verlac's hormones in check."

"This is ridiculous," Isabelle snapped. "What Clary wears shouldn't determine whether some asshole is gonna try to jump her bones without her consent."

"Of course it's not fair," Jon replied. "But you can count on it being a probability, and I just want to make things safer."

Despite the argument building up inside her, an argument that Clary knew was completely accurate and portrayed the way the two of them felt about the crappy situation, Izzy nodded, clearly defeated.

Clary wore jeans and a striped t-shirt, looking completely dull in comparison to her best friend, who wore high-waist shorts, a crop top, and five-inch heels. She let her friend do her makeup, however, and ended up with a surprisingly natural-looking face, which was exactly what she wanted.

"Hold on," she said once she finished. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna check up on the guys."

"Okay," Isabelle said absently, applying mascara to her eyelashes.

Clary heard the shower running, and she knew it was Jon; she heard Jace moving around in his room. Smiling, she made her way over to his room, closing the door softly.

"You look gorgeous," he whispered.

He was wearing his uniform: green shorts, white jersey, knee-length socks, and tennis shoes. He had to put on his protective gear once they were at the school, but that was all she got to see of him.

"You," she said, "look really, really nice."

"How nice?"

"I would show you, but Izzy's gonna notice I'm missing."

They were dangerously close; one touch, and it would take the world falling apart to get them out in time.

"Okay." Jace stepped back. "I'll see you later, then."

"You're killing me."

"It's the other way around."

She rolled her eyes. "Impossible." But she could feel it. She didn't know how it was possible to want somebody as much as she wanted him, and it scared her.

"We're continuing this tonight."

"Can't wait."

"Cla-ryyyyyy!" Isabelle's voice boomed through the hallway, making Clary cringe. "I need your he-eeeeelp!"

She sighed. "I'll see you later."

He kissed her, but it was quick, like he wanted to do it before she could protest that he would ruin her lipstick. "Definitely."

All she did was smile, bite her lip, and walk away.

* * *

It was no surprise when their team won.

They were obviously better than the other team and, even for Clary, who was not very good at sports or at telling who was winning, the game got kind of boring.

"So," Clary said to Jace. They were walking around while waiting for Jon, who was talking to some girl from their rival school. "How does it feel to be a winner?"

"I've always been a winner." He grinned. "Also, the other team sucked."

"Seriously," she said, nodding in agreement. "I kind of feel bad for them."

"I don't." He shrugged, his hand brushing against hers.

Holding hands, thankfully, would not be something that her brother would question. It was part of their façade; they couldn't just act like they were in a relationship when Sebastian was around, or he would get suspicious. So she enjoyed the feeling of his (slightly sweaty) hand pressed against hers, holding it—and, at times, holding _her_—together.

It was ridiculous how much you could care for some people after knowing them for such a short time.

"You ready for this party?" Jace asked.

"Not even a little," she replied, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm tired and cranky and I still don't get why Sebastian Verlac is being such a douche, and this whole me needing protection thing is sort of insane."

"Guys like Sebastian," he said slowly, "don't know how to stop. They're the kind of guys you read about when someone talks about being forced to do things, but you don't hear it now because either he's been sleeping around with a lot of people who _want _to sleep with him, or he's been keeping them quiet. I know guys like him. He's determined. He's not gonna stop until he gets what he wants, as stupid as that may seem."

_God, that's creepy_. She shook her head. "Some people are insanely fucked up."

"I agree." He squeezed her hand. "But I'm not letting anything happen to you."

"Hey," she said, looking at him. "I don't want you to go tomorrow."

"I don't wanna go tomorrow."

"Your mom should go away more often," she blurted out, and then her eyes widened as she realized what she'd said. "I mean, um, I didn't mean it like _that_—"

"I know." He smiled. "And I agree."

She felt a wave of relief wash over her. It'd been a while since she talked before she thought, but it was bound to happen eventually. It was a trademark move of hers to fuck things up before they even started by saying something ridiculously stupid.

"I'm gonna miss having you around," Clary said to him. "You know, for more than just a couple of hours."

"Tell me about it." He paused, hesitant. "We should tell Jon."

"About us? You're crazy."

"Maybe a little," he said. "But I wanna see you. Call me crazy, but wouldn't it be great if I could just come over or if we could go out and, gasp, kissing in public?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know it'd be great, but what if Jon, like, blows things out of proportion? This whole Sebastian thing has him on edge."

"And I'd do anything to help with that," Jace said, and the sincerity in his voice was undeniable.

"I'll think about it," she conceded. "But that's not a yes."

"It's good enough."

She felt it as much as he did: they wanted to kiss. There was this pull, this attraction, that was magnetic and wonderful, the way love felt. It was like they had said enough words and now needed to say them differently, and she didn't know how she could hold herself back. He was so wonderful. Sure, he was gorgeous in the physical sense, but she knew that there was more to him than what she knew.

And she knew plenty. She got to see a protective, caring side of him in no time. She loved the wit he held on the tip of his tongue, ready to roll off whenever given the opportunity. She loved his confidence, his loyalty, his genuine concern…she liked what she saw, and she knew there was more, and she wanted to explore it all. She wanted to know what his favorite color was, what the song he'd listened to the most was, what he wanted to do, what he thought about at three in the morning when everyone else was asleep and his brain was still working.

But she was also scared. She was scared of moving too fast, of her thoughts being too much for so little time. She was scared that she wouldn't know when to stop feeling so much and would end up doing something or thinking something that she would go on to regret. It was the problem with not being introduced to love earlier, to staying away from falling in love or feeling anything remotely intense to anybody.

She shrugged it off, though. Yes, she was scared, scared of how anything could make or break her relationship, of the fact that it may not be a forever kind of thing. But she had never felt that way about anybody before, and Jace was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her, and she wanted to kiss him back.

They let their hands drop as they saw Jon approaching. "Promise you'll think about it?" Jace repeated.

"I promise," she replied softly, because she _would_.

They drove silently to the party, the two boys sitting in the front. They'd both changed and were now wearing jeans and t-shirts, which Clary didn't mind. She liked Jace in a uniform, but, then again, she liked Jace in anything.

The party was only fifteen minutes away from the school, so they got there fairly quickly. Even though her body was screaming at her, begging her not to climb out of the car, she took the hand Jace offered her, partly because of his charming smile, but also because they were supposed to be dating.

"If anything happens—"

"I'll text you." Clary cut her brother off, glaring. "I'm gonna be _fine_."

"Keep an eye on her," Jon told Jace before disappearing into the house.

The couple stayed outside, enjoying the (relative) peace and quiet.

"Jace," she said quietly, "why are you guys so sure that Sebastian is going to try something? It's one thing to hypothesize and shit, to think that he _might _do this and take precautions, but you guys are, like, _really _sure."

Jace was quiet, nodding at her words. He sighed before he started talking, and it sounded like he was exhausted. "We didn't wanna scare you," he said simply. "That's why we didn't tell you. Sebastian's been accused of, well, _doing _things, to put it simply, to girls who don't want to have those things done to them." She could tell that he was struggling to find euphemisms.

"So he raped girls?"

"Basically."

"Fuck."

"I know."

"Why did I come to this party?"

"I told you to stay."

"You tell me a lot of things, Jace Wayland, but that does not always mean I will listen to them."

He sighed. "You're impossible."

"How come he isn't off the team if he's done those things?"

"There's never been any concrete proof."

"Then how do you know?"

"I just do."

For some reason, she didn't question it. Jace didn't seem like the type to start shit for no reason, and she _knew _her brother wasn't that type of person, either, so she had every reason to trust the two of them.

"Are we going in, then?" She nodded toward the house; they were already two houses over, somehow, and could still hear the music.

"Stay with me the whole time, okay?" Jace looked serious. Determined. He was worried before he started really caring about her, she thought. He was that kind of guy. She knew that he was compassionate and kind and sympathetic, and she didn't want to worry him. She nodded, taking his hand, and they made their way in.

* * *

_Let me know what you think! xo_


	9. Chapter 9

_Hey, guys! So, it's 9 minutes until tomorrow, and I'm finally posting this chapter. It's been intense these past couple of days (college search! road trips! having a six hour delay on a flight!), but I'm glad I had time to look at the edits and post this chapter. Many thanks to Katwood5 for getting this done! Also, thank you guys for the insane amount of reviews you've been leaving! I wish I could reply to the guests, but I'm basically really grateful for your reviews. You're all awesome. I love you. It's midnight, and I'm tired, so this whole thing might not make any sense at all._

_Also: if any of you guys are going to BookCon/the CoHF release party (both in NYC!) this week, let me know! I'm gonna be there, and I'm super excited!_

_Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I'll see you next Friday! _

* * *

Sebastian found her an hour into the party.

She'd hidden so well, always behind Jace—his shadow, in a way. He wanted to keep her safe, and she didn't want to object to that. Despite her wanting to think that she could fend for herself in any situation, the truth was that Sebastian was over six feet tall and had a hundred pounds or so on her. She was tiny, not even 5'3, and there was no way that she would be able to defend herself if he came on to her, especially not taking into account that he would use brute force.

So Clary stuck to holding Jace's hand tightly as they wove their way through the crowd, talking to people they knew and people they didn't know, too.

But she had to go to the bathroom, and it would be weird if Jace was right outside the door the whole time, so he walked her there and stayed nearby, like he assured her he would. She went to the bathroom, not even thinking about the fact that she could possibly stumble upon the guy she'd been avoiding, but, once she'd opened the door, there he was.

It was purely accidental: he was talking to a girl Clary didn't know, but his whole body reacted when she reemerged, and she couldn't get to Jace fast enough. She searched for him, but she didn't see him. She pushed down the panic that was forming inside of her and forced herself to act natural.

"Clary," Sebastian said, smiling like an idiot. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"As am I," she said. _How do I work Jace into this conversation? _"I wanted to miss it at first, but Jace insisted that I come." She rolled her eyes.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No! No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm just not a party person. But, you know, he is, and so I told him I'd come."

"It seems like he left you all alone."

"I just wanted to go to the bathroom, so."

"Do you want me to keep you company?"

She inched slightly away from him. "I'm fine."

"I think," Sebastian said, closing the distance between them in one smooth move, "that you want company."

"And I think," said a voice behind her, "that you're really mistaken."

Sebastian's face changed. "Wayland."

"Yep," he replied, draping his arm around Clary's neck. "She said she didn't want company."

"She also said she came here with you, but she looked pretty alone to me."

"_She _is right here," Clary said, annoyed. "Let's go, Jace."

"You know where I'll be," Sebastian said. "You know, once you're done with Jace."

"What did you say?"

"Jace," she sighed, shaking her head. "It's not worth it. Come on."

He looked at her, and she knew that every muscle and bone in his body was itching to have a go at Sebastian. He _was _an asshole, but she couldn't let Jace get in trouble. Not for her, and _not _because of him.

So she shook her head again, and she gripped his hand, and he followed her up the stairs. She felt him shaking and held her breath, finally finding an empty bedroom. She locked it—she felt bad doing it, but she couldn't be too careful—and then sat down beside him on the bed.

"I hate that guy," Jace whispered, shaking his head. "He thinks he can just do anything—literally _anything_. It makes me sick."

Clary nodded, not knowing what to say. It made her sick, too, that a person so young and with so much to learn, a person who should never be thinking about hurting other people, would do the unspeakable things Jace worried about. It was a horrible and twisted world they lived in, she thought. Dark, even during the day.

"It's okay," she whispered to him, finally able to find her voice. "I'm here. I'm safe," she added. "With you."

"I just don't know what's gonna happen."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me," she assured him quickly.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"How?" He looked frustrated at her lack of understanding. "How can you assure me that he won't somehow get you while you're distracted and do what he's done to so many girls before? Huh? Because I'm _not _taking that risk, Clary. I'm here to protect you and to be with you, and I will lose my mind if anything happens to you."

She shut her eyes. She wanted so badly to tell him that she was going to be fine, that the things he worried about were trivial, that she wasn't going to suffer and nothing would happen, but he was right: she didn't know. She was just as clueless as the rest of them, and she tried to hide her panic as the realization hit her.

"I know," she whispered. It felt like the words should be said for just them to hear, even though there was no one else around. "And I feel safe. I've never felt safer. But nothing's going to happen."

"Clary—"

"He can't hurt me." She tapped her purse. "I have pepper spray and I used to play soccer with Jon. I can distract him. And," she added, rolling her eyes, "I have you and Jon on speed dial."

Jace looked like he wanted to protest, but he just nodded, opting to not say anything at all. She was glad; she didn't think she could come up with any other arguments. There would be nothing she could say, she realized, that would make him feel like she was safe. It both scared her and thrilled her that he was so invested in her, that he cared so much. Part of it, she knew, was because of his friendship with Jon.

But then there was that other part.

She rested her head against his shoulder, suddenly exhausted. She wanted him to have fun, but she could see that it wasn't going to happen. "Do you wanna go home?"

He took her hand in his. "No way. Unless you want to," he added.

She did. She wanted nothing more than to get to her house and watch a movie and fall asleep, but he'd won that game. This party was for him—for the whole team, sure, but he was part of it. She shook her head and looked up at him briefly.

"I just hate," Clary said, "that you're looking out for me like I'm a kid. I like you, Jace, but a little distance won't be too bad." She said this teasingly, but there was seriousness behind her words.

"Clary—"

"Please," she begged, her eyebrows drawn together. She squeezed his hand briefly. "I can take care of myself."

He looked at her for a while. She couldn't see him, but she could feel his eyes boring into her, examining every inch of her body. She was blushing not a second after she realized he was staring, and she tried really hard to keep still, though it was difficult to concentrate with him looking at her like that.

"Okay," Jace said. "But I won't be too far. And you have to call me if anything happens."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, _Dad_."

"Let's not have that image in our minds."

She almost shuddered. "Gross."

"You brought it up."

"You were acting like him," she pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. "Was not."

"Was too," Clary said, but she looked up at him and decided to drop it when she realized that he was so, so close.

And they were in a room.

Alone.

She grinned, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He pulled her onto his lap, but he didn't kiss her. They just stayed like that for a while. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, and his arms were on the small of her back, and she thought it was perfect. She could have stayed in that moment forever, with his breath close to her lips, and his hands on her.

But it didn't compare to when their lips met. It was lightning, electrifying and beautiful, and they felt like they were going to lose control. Adrenaline pumped through her veins; she suddenly felt very alive. His grip on her back tightened as he pulled her closer, and she kissed him with everything she had in her, in all the ways she'd wanted to kiss him since she realized that she wanted him.

They pulled apart briefly, only giving them time to take a quick breath before they were kissing again. The lack of fresh air in her lungs was making her dizzy, but she didn't care: she was kissing Jace, and everything felt right.

They stopped kissing. She didn't know how, but after what seemed like an eternity of kisses, she rested her forehead against his and breathed, and then stayed like that. She didn't know if being with other guys would feel like that, but she doubted it. She had this feeling in her gut that what she felt for Jace was a one-time thing, and she smiled at the thought.

"You okay?" he asked, his breath ragged.

She nodded, biting her lip. She didn't trust herself to speak, so she gave him a kiss on the cheek and rolled off his lap, taking her place beside him. His thumb stroked hers, and she felt like she could fall asleep, but didn't. She was very alert at the same time, looking out for more kisses, but he didn't try to kiss her again.

"We should do that more often," he whispered to her, and she nodded.

She _definitely _agreed.

After she talked him into it, Jace finally agreed to go and enjoy the party by himself, leaving her behind. The second she saw him disappear into the crowd, she began to regret her decision. What was she thinking? Seriously, what the hell? She wasn't going to lie; Sebastian scared her, especially now that she knew what he stood for. So, when she let Jace go, she thought about catching up to him.

Instead, she took a breath and sucked it up.

Alcohol. She needed a beer for the nerves or _something _to calm her down. She passed the different crowds doing their own thing and finally got to the table near the kitchen where everything was set up. She took some beer, tasted it, and felt like she was going to throw up.

So, naturally, she kept swallowing.

"Hey." She felt a hand tap her shoulder and whirled around, surprised to find Isabelle there. "Great party, huh?" She rolled her eyes.

Clary smirked. "Don't pretend to be having a sucky time. It _does _look like what a 'good party' would to a party person."

Isabelle shrugged. "It's alright. Simon wants to leave, but I'm begging him to stay for an hour or two more."

"That boy _really _loves you," Clary muttered.

"I know." Apparently she hadn't said it as low as she thought.

"Listen," she said to her best friend, "have you seen—"

"Clary." The voice made her heart turn to stone; she saw Isabelle narrow her eyes and knew she hadn't been imagining it. She turned around to meet his dark eyes and charming smile. "Funny running into you here."

Isabelle rolled her eyes, probably for dramatic effect. "Fuck _off_, Verlac."

"Feisty, are we?" He winked at her before turning back to Clary. "Unfortunately, Lightwood, I only have eyes for your friend right now."

She felt the waves of panic returning, though they weren't nearly as overwhelming as they'd been before. She took it as a good sign and took deep breaths, hoping it would somehow help. She wanted to scream or cry or maybe both, but none of it was going to help. She did the only thing she could do: she went along with it.

"It's okay, Izzy," she said, hands casually slipping into the pockets of her jacket—the one Jace had handed over to her, the one that was huge and warm and smelled like him. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Her best friend mouthed something like _are you insane?_ before sauntering off.

"So." Sebastian took a beer. "You've finally come around."

"What can I say?" She tightened her grip around the phone. _He's harmless, he's harmless, he's harmless. I can handle him. I can handle him. He's harmless_. "You're too irresistible." _Gag_.

He moved so close he stole her breath, and she tried not to look like she was choking. "I know." He leaned in, the (sadly) sexy grin of his plastered on his face, lips almost touching her ear as he asked, "Wanna go upstairs?"

She bit her lip. "Sure."

Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her hand and basically dragged her up the stairs. She started to panic just then—_really _panic, because the plan was backfiring _hard_—but then realized she could use an excuse. She could tell him she had to use the bathroom and then text/call Jace. She could do this. She could handle him.

They were in the same bedroom she'd been in earlier with Jace, and the memories filled her with momentary happiness before she realized that her new companion was not Jace. He was the night to Jace's day, and she didn't like the animalistic look he had on his face, like a predator seizing in on its prey.

"I need to use the bathroom," she blurted out. "Please. It'll be quick."

"Sure," he said, and it sounded even scarier because he sounded patient. Like he could afford to lose time. Like she couldn't run anywhere else.

She gave him a quick grin and entered the bathroom, locking the door and pulling out her phone. Her heart dropped; she couldn't find air to suck in, to feed her lungs. She felt like life had been sucked out of her in that one second, because she finally understood why he had that look on his face.

_No signal._

* * *

_Let me know what you think! xo_


	10. Chapter 10

_Hi, guys! Here I am, on a Friday (yay!), updating this story. I know that I left the last chapter in a cliffie (sorry!), but hopefully this answers some of the questions you have been asking. If not, then be patient, 'cause answers will come. I promise. _

_Anyway, this week has been awesome! I met Cassandra Clare and got _CoHF_ signed (happy _CoHF_ release week, btw!), which was awesome. I also met E. Lockhart, author of _We Were Liars_, which I absolutely adore. Tomorrow I'll be going to BookCon, where so, so, SO many authors will be signing + giving away free books (including Cassie Clare!), so I'm excited. New York City is the best, and I never get tired of visiting it. _

_Thanks a bunch for reading, and special thanks, as always, to Katwood5 for beta'ing this. I hope you enjoy! _

* * *

The _no signal _written on the phone of her screen haunted her as she bit her nails.

Sebastian was getting impatient, she was sure, and she wondered _why _she'd gone through with this plan. If not for this stupid, stupid notion that she could save all the potential victims by trapping him and getting him to do _something _and then turning him in to the police or something once someone caught them ("someone" being Jace), then she wouldn't be stuck in a room with a guy who was a head taller than her and known to sexually harass girls.

The _no signal _flashed on her screen, reminding her of two things: a) time was running out, and b) she was screwed.

She took a deep breath. There were two options: she could go out now, or she could stay in the bathroom for longer and, therefore, piss him off. As much as she hated it, she opted on the latter.

And then she got an idea.

She flushed the toilet, tried to look flustered (which wasn't hard, considering the situation she was in), and took a deep breath before opening the door with a force so strong she all but stumbled into the room. She composed herself, smiling shakily.

"You okay?" Sebastian asked, frowning. He was walking toward her, and she took a deep, shaky breath before nodding.

"Yeah, it's just…" She shook her head. "Wow, this is embarrassing."

"What's embarrassing?"

"I just—I got my period." _Please, please, please work, _she prayed.

Sebastian frowned again, but it didn't last as long as his last one; his features smoothed out in a matter of seconds, the animalistic, predatory grin he wore earlier back on his face. "Don't worry," he said, and it only took him two strides to be by her side. "There are plenty of things we can do. Hell," he added, "I might not even mind in a couple of minutes."

Clary wanted to die.

She knew there was no escaping it, but it didn't feel real until his mouth was on her—on all of her, on her neck and lips and shoulders before she could even process what was happening. She wanted to scream, but the music was making the floor tremble, so who would hear her? Who would _care_? It was official; she hated parties, and she hated herself for thinking that she could do something about this.

_Maybe_, she thought_, if I let him do this, if I let him kiss me, then he'll let me go when I tell him I'm not feeling too well_. God, she hoped it'd work. He was touching her in all the wrong places, and she felt her eyes start to water. His hands wandered, squeezing her boobs, grabbing her ass. She'd never felt shittier in her entire life. She wanted to fight, but why would she? He would just force himself on her more. No one would listen. _Still_, she thought as his hands explored her bare skin, _I have to try._

"Wait," she told him. "Wait."

He looked annoyed and pissed off, but he stopped his movements. "What?"

"I'm not—I'm not feeling too well," she said, hoping he would stop. _Please stop_. She hated how weak her voice had sounded.

"That's okay," he said, his hands unbuttoning her pants before she could process it. "You will in a second."

Tears fell freely now. _This is it, _she thought. All that time she spent thinking that she would find the right person, fall in love, and then lose her virginity. All that time she spent thinking that she wanted it to happen with somebody she loved, somebody who respected her, and it was all for nothing. All those times she answered Izzy's, "What do you want your first time to be like?" question while they hung out (because, well, Isabelle was in love with the idea of Clary's love life) were now worthless, because reality and imagination were two very different things that rarely crossed paths.

And, when they did, they did not look like this. They did not look like a boy forcing his lips on her, shrugging her pants off in a way that would leave bruises, and pushing her shirt up because he was too drunk or impatient to take it off completely.

She wanted to go back in time. To tell herself that trying to do things on her own, especially something like this, was stupid and reckless and would ruin her life. She wanted to tell herself that, no matter how much she thought it would help, she did not want to end up on her back in someone else's bed with Sebastian Verlac kissing her—hell, _biting _her, even—on a Friday night. She wanted to be with Jace more than anything in that moment, but she knew she couldn't be. He was outside, probably. He wouldn't hear her scream.

But she had to try again.

"Sebastian," she said, voice shaking. "Sebastian, _stop_."

Why the hell had she given her goddamn purse to Izzy?

"Babe, it's okay." He looked drunk on something, but she wasn't sure whether it was the hormones or the fact that he was getting off on forcing her to do whatever it is they were doing. "I'll go slow."

She couldn't help it; the anxiety, fear, frustration, and anger bottled up inside her, and, before she knew it, she started screaming.

"Help!" she shouted, but her voice was too low. She cleared her throat. "HELP!"

"No one's going to hear you." He was on top of her, his hand covering her mouth, and the other moving down slowly. It travelled down from her neck, to her breasts, to her stomach, and then to her underwear. He was going to yank it down, and then he was going to—

No. She couldn't think about it. She _wouldn't_.

He'd already taken off his pants and his shirt, and she did _not _want to think about him naked. Sure, to any other girl, he might have even been appealing, but she had never encountered a nastier person before. Even if he had been a god, she still would've screamed and fought.

She squirmed under his grip, her hands clawing at his arms, but he just rolled his eyes. It didn't faze him; he was an athlete, and, sadly, way stronger than she was.

"Stop _fucking _struggling," he said to her, pinning her arms over her head with one hand and keeping her mouth shut with another. "It'll hurt a lot more if you struggle."

_Nononopleaseno. _

She was done.

She could feel her life changing in that moment.

And then the door burst open.

* * *

He'd told Jon that Clary had a headache.

Clary was grateful for it, but she was not grateful for his silence. It gave her too much time to think, to feel Sebastian's hands on her skin. She wanted badly to tell Jace many things—that she was sorry, that she was an idiot, that there was more to it than just a suicidal mission—but the words were stuck in her throat. She cared about him too damn much, and it was going to ruin her.

Jace took her to his house. His mother was asleep, apparently, and they would have all the space to think that they needed. Which was good, because she needed to think, but she needed to think with him. She couldn't think by herself, not when her thoughts were plagued with what had happened that night. She needed him to feed her ideas, to tell her what to think about, to give her a distraction.

She sat on his bed, cross-legged, holding a towel. She'd taken a shower and was wearing an oversized sweater of Jace's. She couldn't stand to wear the same clothes she'd worn earlier; they felt dirty, tainted.

He wasn't looking at her. He brought her some tea and a blanket, but he didn't meet her eye once.

She couldn't take it. She understood why he couldn't look at her, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "I'm sorry," she said to him, and she felt her throat close up, her eyes fill with tears. "I'm so, so, _so _sorry, Jace. I know that I was irresponsible and an idiot and that I did exactly what you told me not to do, and now you're probably wondering why I did such a self-destructive thing, and you probably regret ever caring about someone who's so willing to throw everything away like that. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry." She had no idea where that speech was meant to go, for it started and ended with her apologizing, but she was crying her eyes out, and she couldn't help it.

"Clary—" His voice cracked when he said her name, and she felt like she was going to cry harder, the pain in her chest almost unbearable.

She shook her head. "You trusted me, and I did the opposite of what a smart person would do. I went right ahead and fucked myself up, and you had to leave the party, and I'm sorry."

"You think I'm upset because I had to leave the _party_?"

"No!" She shook her head again. "It's just that it meant a lot to you. And I ruined your night. I scared the crap out of you and myself and Izzy, and I'm so sorry for doing something so idiotic."

He knelt in front of her; she wanted to flinch, but she didn't. She could trust Jace. She knew that.

"I'm not mad at you because you ruined my night," Jace said, looking at her intently, as if to make her believe every word he said. "I'm mad because you didn't let me in on what you were trying to do. Because you did it alone. I know that you had a reason for it, and it was probably a good one, because you're not stupid, but the way your plan was executed was stupid. And kind of selfish, because what would I have done, Clary?" He was whispering, and his eyes looked watery. "What would I have done if something had happened to you tonight? Aside from what already happened, that is." He took a deep breath. "How could I forgive myself if you'd gotten hurt?"

She was crying harder now; her chest hurt so much that she felt it was going to burst, and her eyes stung. She did not deserve him. She didn't deserve any of it, not after what she put him through.

"I care about you so much," he murmured to her, taking her hand in his. "What happened tonight, and the reason I'm mad, is not about me. It's because of _you_. I'm mad at the possibility of you getting hurt. I feel completely useless."

"You're not," she managed to say. "You're not useless. It's not your fault."

"Why did you do it?"

She shook her head. "It was stupid."

"Why?" he pressed.

She sighed. "I was going to call you or text you to tell you to bring someone, like a cop or something, to get him arrested. I wanted you to catch him forcing himself on me so that he couldn't hurt anybody else. I don't want anyone to go through what I went through tonight."

He shut his eyes, and she could feel what he felt: the frustration, the anger, the sadness. The sympathy. The worry. She wanted to hold him until the end of the world just for feeling these things toward her.

"Why didn't you call?"

Her laugh was full of bitterness; it sounded like what black coffee at five in the morning would taste to a sugar lover. "There was no fucking signal," she said to him.

He stayed silent, and she felt like she was going to come undone. He had to tell her something—_anything_, even if it was just something to make her feel like shit—because words, no matter how hurtful, were always better than silence. She couldn't bear it anymore, couldn't bear to be with him so close when there was a wall between them.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Jace said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. She could tell by the way he spoke that there was more to it, that he wasn't okay, but that he was willing to keep it all inside for her. And, usually, she would have told him not to, but she appreciated it.

"Can I just—can I sleep for a second? Until we have to go pick up Jon?"

"Sure," he said, voice soft, and stood up.

She got underneath the covers. The bed smelled like him; the pillows were comfortable, and she felt like she was in heaven. He sat in his rolling chair, watching her fall asleep. He'd turned off the light, and only the lamp on his desk was on.

"Why are you looking at me?" she asked, her voice full of exhaustion.

"Because I don't have anything else to do," Jace said. "Because I like looking at you."

She smiled. "Okay."

She didn't say it, but she was glad that he didn't try to climb into bed with her. Not that he would even try to do anything remotely sexual after what'd happened earlier, but she needed it, the space and the ability to fall asleep by herself. She felt exhaustion wrap itself around her, encompassing her, and she fell asleep before she could form another coherent thought.

* * *

_Let me know what you think! See you next Friday! xo_


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